The Sellsword and the Maiden
by Rowena2012
Summary: A slightly different path for my favorite character from GoT, Bronn, based mainly on the character from the show, as played so delightfully well and wicked by Jerome Flynn! Where perhaps he is not so black of heart as in the books! I'd love to hear your comments and feedbacks! I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!
1. Chapter 1 The Market

**Market**

It was an incredibly hot and dusty day at the market as Rowena made her way thru the crowds, with her sheep dog Kip on her heels. Normally she would never be allowed to go out alone, but the stable master and his wife, her adoptive aunt and uncle, who had been her guardians these last few years, both knew the dog would keep her safe. Even so, she had spotted one of the stable boys almost as soon as she'd reached the market, and knew he had probably been sent to keep an eye on her. He was at least smart enough not to try and follow too closely or walk with her. Not that she disliked him, most of the boys that worked at the stables she would call her friends. But the idea of having to be chaperoned made her angry, and he knew it. She hated being treated like a child, or like something fragile that must be carefully guarded. And she wasn't watched all the time because she was bad or because her guardians didn't trust her. It was because she was a lone unmarried girl, a maiden. The latter was somehow a well known fact and cause for much speculation, to her constant embarrassment.

It had gotten so that she couldn't go out without getting a good deal of attention from men everywhere she went. Her friends and the stable master's wife tried to convince her that it was because of her long brown hair and her green eyes that men found her pretty, and she realized that men did stare at her more than some other girls. But experience had taught her that men were not to be trusted. She thought of the stable master's brother, Averet, the man who had raised her like his own daughter….and then she shook her head to rid her mind of the memory, and held her head up and walked on. She would not trust them, but she would not let them make her afraid.

By now the attention from men had become tiresome but sometimes it was a source of amusement, especially if she was bored. And most especially if she was in a foul mood, which didn't happen too often, but mostly came along with the new moon. Some of the men tried to be charming and smile and bow, and others just openly leered at her. She mostly ignored their stares and their comments, as she'd become used to it now. She tried her best to be polite to the wives, but some of them regarded her with suspicion, which was almost as annoying, and quite unfair, she thought. As she'd gotten older, and less tolerant, she became bold enough to sometimes stare back at the men. She would give them an ill-tempered look, or pretend to appear shocked by their behavior. Most of them would either look away guiltily or mumble some sort of apology and scurry away. Others would look away, muttering to themselves angrily, sometimes calling her a name. It didn't matter to Rowena. Each time she succeeded in putting them off, she felt a small sense of victory. And it seemed to be a method that almost always worked. In fact, it seemed too easy sometimes, but it was a way to amuse herself when she was not at home with the dogs and horses.

There _was_ one man that she always hoped desperately not to see, because she knew he could not be scared away so easily, and she dared not try it with him. She could barely stand to meet his gaze, he frightened her so. It was the way he looked at her that sent a chill thru her. He was always smiling, a sick twisted smile, but his eyes were hard and cruel, and filled with lust and greed. He had made his interest in her clear, and it wasn't a wife he was looking for. And worst of all, he was a lord, a noble, and she could not be rude to him, or he could easily make trouble for her, or for the stable master. She didn't want to imagine what sort of things he was capable of. She shuddered at the memory of her last encounter with him. Taking a deep breath, she tried to shake off the image and pressed on into the crowds.

At the carts that held the food, the crowds were the worst. Men would take the opportunity to stand too close to women walking alone in these crowded streets, or brush against them as if by accident. She had learned that it was best to ignore them as long as they didn't try to touch her breasts or grope her behind. She had once yelled at a man in the middle of the street for doing just that. He turned out to be a client of the stable master's and came to apologize to the man in person, which is the only way he'd heard about it. She'd gotten a bit of a lecture after that. When she was out in the streets of the city, he'd said, she represented his house, even if she was not his true daughter, and she must make every attempt to be polite and civil to all the merchants, as they were important to his business as he was to theirs. And if one was so bold as to touch her inappropriately, she must not attempt to deal with it herself, but was to report it to the stable master or his wife. So she learned to smile sweetly and answer their questions politely, even as they leered at her, stared openly at her chest or watched her walk away.

Today everyone seemed extra busy and pre-occupied, so no one had the time to bother her or talk much and she was especially grateful for that. In the shade under a fruit cart, she felt certain she was being watched, and looked around for the stable boy, but didn't see him. She scanned her immediate vicinity, but no one was paying her any attention. She sighed and moved on, telling herself she was being a silly girl. Still, she was convinced there were eyes on her, so she looked down at her most reliable friend – the dog at her feet – and followed his gaze across the street. And there she saw a man, dressed all in black, staring at her from an open doorway. She was surprised when he didn't look away, or even look guilty at being caught. He did give the dog a curious look, then looked back up at her and gave her a nod and an amused grin. He was impressed with her clever method of discovering him, but she was not sure if his nod of approval was meant for her or the dog.

She did not smile back, but he continued gazing at her. And when she gave him her best accusing look, he simply smiled, folded his arms across his chest, and leaned his shoulder against the doorway, and kept staring. He was not like anyone she'd ever seen before. Not just because she could tell he was out of place, mainly because of his dress, and probably more low born than she herself was. But he seemed very much at ease with himself, as if he didn't have a care in the world at this moment. He was tall and thin with dark hair and whiskers, and his face was weathered from being out in the elements and probably from living a rough life, she imagined. She thought he would probably not be considered typically handsome, but his air of confidence intrigued her and made her wonder who exactly this strange man was.

She gave him one last disapproving look, which only earned her a satisfied smile from him, and then she turned away. "Come on Kip," she said to the dog, and moved down the street to the next cart. But try as she might, she could not resist looking back, only to find him still watching her. He smiled again and cocked his head to the side, but she ignored him. Now he was the one playing a game, at her expense.

She moved further down the street, where it widened into a square. Wandering from cart to cart, she tried to forget the stranger but found her curiosity only increasing. From where she stood now, she could look back to the doorway as she pretended to be interested in the furs for sale in front of her, without the risk of being caught herself. Just then something behind him caught his attention, and he stepped out into the street to make way for…a child? No, it was a small man, coming out of the building where the stranger had been standing, and they were immediately in serious conversation as they moved into the crowd. The small man she recognized, as he was a noble, brother to the queen in fact. She had seen him often enough, and he even occasionally stopped by the stables to visit the stablemaster, but she had never spoken to him.

Now she turned her attention back to the stranger in black, and saw how his demeanor had so quickly and drastically changed. She could observe him now without fear of being discovered, and even as he talked, she could see his eyes darting about the street, his body tense and alert, but moving with a grace and ease that did not match the rest of his appearance. It was obvious he was some sort of protector to the little man, and he was completely focused on clearing a safe path thru the streets for the both of them.

As they were about to pass her, Rowena realized she was now observing him rather brazenly but still, she felt safely concealed. He was on duty now, and seemed to take his work very seriously. She watched as people instinctively moved out of his way as he approached, seeming frightened by his appearance alone. He would not be distracted by random girls in the street now. And just then his head turned ever so slightly towards her and he looked directly into her eyes for a brief moment before turning his attention back to the crowded street. She was too startled to move or look away, and felt her cheeks flush hotly, and then he and the little man were swallowed up by the throng of activity.

Rowena looked around as if she'd forgotten where she was, and was suddenly aware of how warm and still the air was, and how her clothes were sticking to her body. She tapped the sheep dog on his hip to get his attention away from the furs he was sniffing at, and turned and walked as quickly as possible in the direction of the stables, her dog padding silently behind her. She realized now that the stranger had never lost sight of her at all, and he had wanted to make sure she knew it. It gave her a strange but not altogether unpleasant feeling in her stomach, one that would re-visit her anytime she recalled the image of him, or the way he looked at her.

As she hurried home, she couldn't help but wonder if she would see him again.


	2. Chapter 2 Lord vs Sellsword

**Lord vs. Sellsword (UPDATED 3/20/2013)**

It had been another trip to the market, and another time she was disappointed that she hadn't seen the stranger. She had since learned he was a sellsword. He had come back to the city with the Imp, after a great battle. And she learned that the Imp didn't travel anywhere without the sellsword in tow now, so she assumed she was less likely to see him, as he was busy guarding the queen's brother.

It was hot and she was irritable, so she took a shortcut that she wouldn't normally take, to avoid the crowds of people and animals. The street here was nearly deserted, and she suddenly remembered why she had started making a point not to travel this way. All alone on the street, she could easily be approached by anyone, with any intentions. And as soon as she had finished the thought, Lord Petyr Baelish stepped into the street directly in front of her, stopping her cold.

"Good day, Rowena," he said, smiling sweetly, but his eyes were as cold and mean as ever.

She didn't speak or move, and avoided making eye contact with him. He casually brushed a stray hair back from her face, and she shrunk away from him.

"Have you considered my offer any further, Rowena?" he said lazily. "You know, you won't be this young and beautiful forever. Eventually, someone may be too tempted by the fact you are a still a virgin at almost 20. Men can be animals, you know, forcing themselves on women, especially young innocent ones. How could that be any better than my proposal?

He slowly circled around her as he continued to speak. "You have no prospects for marriage. I could have you in the finest gowns and jewels, keeping company with only the finest men in the city. I would even let you choose which of my clients you would be with." She had glanced at him then, to see him looking down at his fingernails as he spoke the last sentence. Of course she knew he was lying.

"And you would get a part of every coin we collect. What other options do you have? Will you live in a room over a barn until you are an old maid, smelling of horses and dogs your whole life?"

A part of her knew he was right, she had absolutely no prospects outside of her current situation. But she knew that he was a cruel and evil man. He had made veiled threats against not just herself and the stable master, but even against the animals in her care. He knew what would hurt her the most, and made no secret that he would use it against her. And she felt he would take pleasure not just in hurting her, but in the physical act of hurting an animal. This thought sent chills down her spine. She thought she would definitely be better off living in a barn smelling of animals than to be under his employ.

Just then something behind her caught his attention, and she heard a voice call out, "Is everything alright here?" She turned to see the sellsword, Bronn, standing there, eyeing Baelish suspiciously, one hand on the handle of his sword, the other behind his back. Baelish smiled his evil grin, but the disdain and anger was clearly visible in his eyes. He did not appreciate the unspoken threat of violence. When he spoke, in clipped tones dripping with exaggerated politeness, his face was red with fury. "Nothing that concerns you, my good man."

The sellsword looked at Rowena then, and raised his eyebrows. She hoped he could see in her eyes what she was screaming in her head. _Please don't leave me alone with his man._ She held her breath until he spoke.

"Well she concerns me at the moment," he said, eyeing Baelish insolently, "Was sent to look for her."

Now Baelish was looking at Rowena with suspicion. "Do you know this man?"

She hesitated for a moment and then made her decision. "Y-yes," she stammered." She prayed to the gods she had put her trust in the right place. But what other option did she have at the moment? Other than the three of them, the street was completely empty. And she had left her dog behind because the day was so hot and she thought the trip might take longer than normal.

"Really?" Lord Baelish mocked her. "Tell me who he is." The nobleman, who was not much taller than her, she suddenly realized, folded his hands together in front of himself, and leaned his head back, narrowing his eyes at her.

"He…is…Tyrion Lannister's man." She managed to say, though her voice was shaky.

He was not totally convinced but she sensed he might be yet.

"And what business would you have with Tyrion's Lannister's man?"

Without hesitating, she responded. "He was coming to the stables to see about a new horse," she said, wondering if her Uncle Bayard, the stable master, could actually be talked into giving the sellsword a horse. Quite possibly, if he knew the man had rescued her from Lord Baelish.

"That's right," confirmed the sellsword, now smiling back at Baelish arrogantly. "I was told I had to get my advice on the horse from no one but the girl." He gave Rowena a quick polite smile, folded his arms across his chest, and waited to see how the lord would object now.

"Well, then, if she is so skilled with horses, I'd love to see her at work. I will come and observe, if it would not be an inconvenience to either of you?" Baelish smiled his smile and looked back and forth from Bronn to Rowena.

"No…of course…it would not be an inconvenience", she replied, only slightly defeated. The sellsword made no response, just continued regarding Baelish smugly. She had no reason to refuse Lord Baelish an audience, without being rude. But she also knew he wanted to come because he doubted she actually had any knowledge of the horses.

Rowena smiled to herself, as she turned to lead the way back to the stables. Wondering what an interesting sight they must make. She herelf was a practically a old maid, an unmarried virgin at 19, who lived over barn. The angry little man behind her, a lord dressed in his finest robes, had just been speaking of whorehouses and brothels. She glanced back at the sellsword, who was chuckling to himself and tilting his head to the side so that he might admire her more easily from behind. For the first time she realized she liked the feeling of a man looking at her this way. She wanted his approval. She longed for HIS admiration. And as she had that thought, his eyes raised to hers, catching her watching him. He smiled knowingly, and she felt her cheeks redden, and looked forward, trying to remember to put one foot in front of the other as she walked. And now she couldn't stop thinking about his eyes on her as she walked, knowing that they were…and wondering if she should feel ashamed for liking it.


	3. Chap 3 A Puppy's Worth a Thousand Words

**A Puppy's Worth a Thousand Words**

"Oh yes, indeed. She knows the temper of the horses better than any of the boys." Her Uncle Bayard was gushing with pride as he spoke to the two men. "I would take her opinion myself on any one of them. The boys are all wonderful horse trainers, and she's not too bad at that herself. In fact, if it weren't for the dogs, I'd have her spend all her time working the horses. She is most valuable to us here."

The stable master hugged Rowena's shoulders protectively as he said it, and she felt the genuine care and concern that she knew he had for her. The concern a father would have for his daughter. He knew what sort of intentions Lord Baelish had towards his niece, but he knew he had to be cautious with the man. Rowena realized how much she cared for this man at that moment, and how he'd made it possible, slowly and over time, for her to trust at least one man in her life so far.

Baelish was now even more annoyed, having been quite confident of catching Rowena in a lie as soon as they arrived back at the stables. Rowena saw the sellsword standing back smiling as he looked at the floor. He obviously had no affection for Lord Baelish, that was clear, and she liked that.

The four of them walked down the aisle between rows of stalls, with Bronn half-heartedly looking at the horses as they passed.

"How 'bout that one?" He finally said, nodding towards a chestnut mare who turned her face to the corner as soon as they stopped outside her stall.

"That horse is not a good match for you." Rowena said dismissively, not meaning to sound insulting. But when she looked at him, he folded his arms over his chest and gave her a skeptical look

"And why's that?" he asked. _How stupid I am_, she thought, _any horse will do at the moment if it gets rid of Lord Baelish. Are you trying to draw this out longer than necessary?_

Too late now. She would have to provide an explanation.

"Because she doesn't have a steady temper. She's skittish, she spooks easily and she nips and kicks other horses if they crowd her. She would not be a reliable mount for you in a crowded street or in a battle."

He said nothing, looking unconvinced, so she shrugged her shoulders and continued. "I suppose you do need to draw your sword when you're on horseback at times? She would toss you off in a second out of fear. I would imagine a horse like that could put a man in your line of work at an extreme disadvantage."

Now it was Rowena's turn to feel smug, but she smiled at him as sweetly as she did at the lecherous men at market. Her Uncle Bayard beamed proudly, and patted her on the shoulder, looking directly at Lord Baelish, hoping he would now be on his way.

Bronn smiled and nodded, and she wondered if he'd only been toying with her. She pressed her lips together tightly to keep herself from smiling right back at him.

Finally Lord Baelish had had enough. "Well then, I see you do have business to attend to, so I will leave you to it. Good day," he said, and stormed out of the barn, angry and frustrated. Rowena breathed a sigh of relief as she watched him go.

Once he was out of sight, Bayard asked Bronn if he might have a word with him, and they headed into the house. Rowena wandered back to the stables and went to the stall where the newest litter of puppies napped with their mother. The bitch's name was Blu, for she had one blue eye and one eye mixed brown and blue. Rowena opened the door and went in, pausing to make sure she had Blu's permission to enter. When Blu thumped her tail on the ground, Rowena smiled at her and went and sat down next to her head. The puppies all came running over as she clucked and cooed at them, and stroked Blu's neck. There is almost nothing in the world that could make me happier than puppies, she thought, as they clamored over each other to get to her. She loved all the dogs, but puppies were the most special to be around.

Blu suddenly lowered her head and flattened her ears, and Rowena looked up to see the sellsword, Bronn, leaning over the stall railing. Blu remained tense, but did not growl at him. "He's not here to bother you," Rowena assured her, patting the dog's head and getting to her feet.

"Fat little things, aren't they," he said, leaning over so that he was resting his head and arms on the top board of the stall, watching the puppies.

"Do you want to hold one?" Rowena asked, suddenly having an idea that she'd very much like to see how this man who killed for a coin would react to a tiny ball of fur.

"Oh no," he said, standing up and backing away from the stall. But she had already scooped up one of the puppies and was out the stall door. She handed the puppy to him unceremoniously, "Here, hold him," and turned and walked to the bucket of food scraps that were saved for the dogs.

Rowena watched over her shoulder, while she filled a bowl with scraps from the bucket. At first he grimaced and turned his face away when the puppy licked him, then he held the puppy out away from his body, which only made the dangling puppy cry. Finally he held the puppy close to his chest, stroking the puppy's back and scratching its neck. The puppy soon stopped wiggling, and licked and nibbled at his chin.

Bronn looked up at Rowena and she realized she was just standing there, watching him. She brought the bowl of scraps back to the stall, and put them down for Blu.

When she turned back to Bronn, he was stroking the pup's shoulder, its head was tucked under his chin, eyes starting to blink, and then it yawned. He looked up at Rowena as if to say, did you see that? When he saw her already watching, he tried to look stern. She pretended not to notice, but try as she might, she could not stop smiling.

"You can just put him down in the stall now, Blu's had her supper." she told the sellsword. "He's already trying to steal her food, so I have to take him out while she eats so she can have some peace."

She returned the bowl back to the shelf over the bucket and watched him from the corner of her eye. He very gently sat the puppy on the ground, patted its little head, and spoke to it softly before he stood up.

A thought had occurred to her while he was in talking with her Uncle Bayard. And now she had to work up the courage to ask him about it.

She cleared her throat, and nervously pressed her skirt with her hands. "Bronn?" He looked up from the puppies, waiting for her to speak.

"How did you come to be in the street just then?" She asked, only meeting his eyes when she had finished speaking.

"Could be I was following you." he admitted. "Maybe I just wanted to know where you lived." He shrugged, and leaned against the wall behind him. "Or maybe I had worse things on my mind than that man in fine clothing did." He didn't smile when she looked surprised. "Don't think I don't have the same kind of thoughts that other men do,' he warned her, shaking his head. "I'm not to be trusted either."

She nodded that she understood his point and did not press the topic any further. It was something of the response she had feared, and she guessed she should be glad for his honesty. She turned back to the puppies as he headed out into the evening. At the doorway he stopped and called back, "By the way, I'll be by tomorrow so you can't help me pick out that horse." He was smiling wickedly. This time she could not help but return his smile, and then he was gone.

When she was laying in her bed that night she was unable to sleep. The day's events had been so strange. She wondered how angry Lord Baelish would be, or what he might do next. But she had later realized that when they were in the street, as angry as he'd been, he'd also seemed intimidated. He was a noble, and one with a great deal of power, but he'd been all alone as well. There on an empty street, he was just as vulnerable as anyone, although she was sure he was armed with at least a dagger under his robes. Bronn was not a very large man, but he was easily a head taller than the lord. And although he was thin, the sellsword was muscled and wiry. He would be much stronger than Lord Baelish, she was sure. Perhaps that was why Lord Baelish liked to bully girls and women, she thought, because he was small and easily outmatched physically by other men. Yes, that made sense. Unfortunately, she was just a girl, so for her, he was still something to worry about.

She realized she had already set her opinion of the sellsword because he _had_ rescued her from Lord Baelish, whatever his original intentions were. And even more important to her than that, was that Kip had never growled at him once. Not even when he was staring at her in the street. And in her mind, she could still see him holding that fat little puppy. She knew what he did for a living, and she knew a sellsword did nothing that wouldn't benefit himself in some way. Everything had to have a payment or reward. No one knew where he came from, or anything of his past, but she was sure there was some part in him that was good. At least she wanted desperately to believe there was.


	4. Chapter 4 Nightmare

**Nightmare**

_She was running through a house, so many rooms and so many people. Everywhere people laughed and danced and drank wine. She couldn't hear their voices, only see the laughter on their faces. She was looking for Kip and Blu and the puppies. Every once in a while, she would catch a glimpse of white fur, and try to push through the crowd to reach one of her dogs, only to have it disappear again. Though she was obviously distressed, no one offered to help her. Some only laughed at her, some looked at her in concern, but most ignored her, and no one spoke to her. No one offered their hand to help her up when she collapsed to her knees in tears. _

_She was looking for someone else, too, but she wasn't sure who she was supposed to be looking for. In between looking for dogs, she wondered where he was, and why he was not here. She ran from room to room, and finally spotted a man, dressed in black. She ran to him and grabbed his shoulder, screaming at him to help her. But when he turned, it was the smiling face of Petyr Baelish who grinned at her, an evil toothy silent grin. He started laughing, and all the women around him began looking at her and laughing too. And then she woke up._

Rowena was dripping with sweat and her heart was racing. She remembered only pieces of the dream, but total panic is what she felt. It was not yet light out, so she might still have hours before the dawn. She curled into a ball on her side, afraid to move. She felt around her for warm furry dog flesh, and when she didn't find it, she patted the bed and called softly to Kip. In a moment he was there, standing on the bed with his nose dipped to hers. He stood for a moment, then turned in a circle and curled himself up against the curve of her stomach, laid himself down with an 'umph', and then sighed loudly. She buried her hands in his fur and held him tightly. He was happy to sleep on the bed, but he didn't especially like to be hugged tightly. He allowed it though, at the times when she needed him to. She didn't care about fleas or smelling like a dog. He was her only source of comfort at the moment, and she finally gave in to the tears that were stinging her eyes. Eventually her tears dried up and she was able to fall back into a fitful sleep. But it seemed she had only just closed her eyes when she heard crows outside calling, telling her it was past time to get up.

She tried to recall the dream as she quickly changed her clothes, but could only remember the feeling of panic, and of being separated and alone. Finally she gave up and tried to shake the very unpleasant feelings it had left her with, and went about getting ready for the morning.

As she brushed her hair and splashed water on her face, she suddenly remembered that Bronn had said he was coming back today. She had no idea if he was teasing her or not, but her mood was instantly a shade lighter, and she would have something to look forward to. She ran to the kitchen door of the stable master's house, knowing she would be too late for breakfast. But the cook saw her come in and moved to grab a plate that she had kept back for her. She smiled sympathetically when she saw Rowena's red puffy eyes, and put an arm around her as she guided her to sit at a chair at the small table in the kitchen.

"What ever is the matter?" Grace, the lady of the kitchen, asked with genuine concern. She was old and wrinkled and moved stiffly, but she was much stronger than she looked. Rowena often watched her work and hoped that she would have that kind of fortitude and spirit when and if she reached such an age.

"I had a terrible dream in the middle of the night," Rowena sighed, "and then I couldn't get back to sleep."

"Cried yourself to sleep, did you?" Grace asked, with a knowing look. Rowena looked into the old woman's eyes, seeing nothing but compassion, and nodded quickly. She dared not speak, because she was sure her voice would crack and she would not be able to hold back her tears. It always seemed to happen more easily when someone was being kind to her.

"Would you like me to braid your hair for you?" the woman asked gently. Oh Rowena would love that, but she didn't want to delay Grace's work and make her day longer. She looked at Grace's face, and saw a smile, and knew that it would make Grace just as happy to do it as it would make Rowena to let her.

"Please", she said, managing a real smile in return. She loved when Grace or her Aunt Rosamond took the time to brush or braid her hair for her. It reminded her of fuzzy memories of the shepherd's wife, Anne, who had died when she was only 6. She was sweet and kind and always smelled of flowers. She would brush all the girls' hair and braid it neatly every morning. It was one of the nicer memories she had of living on the farm just outside the city, with sheep and dogs and other children, and the only parents she had known.

As the old lady's still-nimble fingers worked quickly in her hair, it had a relaxing effect on her, and she felt the memory and fear from the dream fading at last. Grace always made Rowena's hair look very nice. Much more presentable than Rowena herself could ever manage. She supposed she would need that today, based on how she must look this morning. Now she almost hoped Bronn was only teasing about coming back, but at the same time, she knew she would like to see him again.

She was making her way across the yard to the stables when she heard men talking nearby. She quickened her pace but before she could disappear into the barn, she heard a familiar voice. "So have you picked out a horse that would be suitable for the likes of me?" Bronn asked.

She turned and gave the sellsword a half smile and continued into the barn. She hoped against hope that he would not follow, but he did. He didn't say anything at first, just walked slowly between the stalls, peeking in at the various dogs in each one. Finally she felt him waiting for her attention, but she didn't want to look at him.

She cleared her throat, again worried that if she spoke, her voice would betray her and the tears would come. "I do have a horse in mind," she said, her voice coming out a little shakier than she had hoped. Her hands trembled as she reached for the bowl she used to scoop scraps out for the dogs. _Please don't be kind to me now_, she thought. She stood facing the shelf, hoping he would leave, but he moved closer to the other end of the shelf, still keeping a respectable distance between them.

She knew he could tell she was avoiding facing him. He leaned on the shelf and tried to get a look at her face. She turned away abruptly, knocking the bowl to the floor, and banging her knee against the scrap bucket as she reached for it. Bronn reached out quickly and grabbed the bowl before she could, and then she stood face to face with him, with no escape.

Finally, she raised her eyes to meet his. His eyes narrowed as he scanned her face, but he took in her appearance with very little reaction. "Something happen?" he finally asked, as if he had been expecting her to explain herself without being asked. There was an edge to his voice that she thought was anger. She shook her head and looked at her feet and cleared her throat again.

"_Something's_ happened," he said, sounding slightly irritated. "Anyone could see that." She kept staring at her feet, taking a deep breath and letting out a big loud sigh, hoping he would just go away and think she was in a foul mood. It always worked with the stable boys. But he stood firm where he was, basically blocking her path out of the corner.

She finally raised her eyes to his, and he watched her, waiting for her to speak. She thought she saw concern in his eyes, but his face mostly showed impatience at this point.

"Just a bad dream", she said, trying to manage a laugh. "It's so silly, I don't even know what it was about. I woke up and it was dark and I was frightened." She shook her head again, and tried her best to manage a smile.

She definitely saw anger in him now, and it was his turn to avoid her eyes. "I could guess what it was about." He said, and she could see the muscles in his jaw tensing.

Just then her Uncle Bayard came in the big barn door calling her name. She was speechless when she saw that he was followed by Tyrion Lannister. She turned away again, but knew she could not avoid her uncle for long, or be rude in the presence of such a guest.

"Rowena," her uncle called out, "I don't believe you have met our friend - perhaps our only friend - of House Lannister." He laughed as the Imp gave him a dry smile, until he saw her face.

"Rowena?" he said, suddenly concerned. She only shook her head and looked at her feet again to let him know she did not want to talk about it now. She glanced up to see the Imp looking innocently confused. He looked from her to Bronn hesitantly, and the sellsword only gave him an angry look of annoyance.

Thankfully, Tyrion had the sense and manners to break the tension that had become palpable. "Perhaps we should go inside and discuss our business before we see the horses?" he said, with a clap of his small hands.

Her uncle was still concerned, and now she realized that he had come across her alone here with Bronn to find her looking distraught. She looked quickly from one man to the other, and feared she might cause some sort of misunderstanding. She tried to find her voice and gave Tyrion a clumsy curtsy, and announced that she had just the horse in mind, and told her uncle which one she spoke of.

"Very well," he said, but she could tell that he was distracted now and not thinking of horses. He turned and gestured to allow Tyrion to lead the way out of the barn, and she saw the Imp give her a curious look of concern before he turned to leave. Bronn said nothing and turned to follow them. Then, just as he had done the night before, he stopped at the door and called back to her. "I expect to be impressed with this horse you've chosen for me, m'lady." But this morning his voice was stern, and he didn't smile. And then they were all three gone to discuss whatever their actual business here was. She only hoped she would not be part of the topic of conversation.

She sighed a great sigh of relief and sank to the floor with her back against the wall. She sensed that it was easier for him to speak to her when he was not physically close to her, and she wondered why. _Perhaps he's just like all other men and boys who can't stand to be around stupid crying girls_, she scolded herself angrily. Kip wandered over to her and licked her face, then sat in front of her, with pleading eyes.

"Oh dear, you're hungry!" she gasped, suddenly feeling selfish and guilty. And though she was exhausted, she was quickly on her feet and back to the present moment.


	5. Chapter 5 A Horse for Bronn

**A Horse for Bronn**

When the men finally returned to the stable yard some time later, Rowena could immediately sense tension, especially between her Uncle Bayard and Bronn. Both seemed on edge, annoyed even, and both seemed to be avoiding each other's eye, and hers as well. This made her quite uneasy, but Tyrion distracted her by politely asking if they might see the horse now.

Rowena gave the two other men another look before heading back to the barn. She was nervous now, and she had no idea why, but she felt certain that whatever they discussed in the house had involved her somehow. She finally led out a sturdy, well-muscled horse that they'd only had a few weeks. She could tell right away that Tyrion was impressed with the animal. Bronn of course showed no hint of what he thought on first sight.

She had chosen to bring the horse out wearing only a bridle, and led him to a wooden block on one side of the paddock where she could easily climb up. Then she showed them how magnificent he was, how quickly he could go from a walk to a full gallop and back to a walk again. How quickly and tightly he could turn, and stop, at full speed. She rode him through a chute made of two fences, just wide enough for a horse to walk through. He clipped the wood with a front hoof, and his hindquarters bounced against the fence, but he didn't react at all. Then she rode him up and over a small makeshift wooden bridge in the center of the paddock, which he took with no hesitation. She rode him near a group of doves resting on the ground, and they fluttered up beneath him and around him, and he didn't give them the slightest notice other than a snort. Finally, she trotted him back over to where the men stood, to see if they were satisfied with his performance.

"Very well done, Rowena," her uncle said, beaming with obvious pride. Tyrion Lannister seemed surprised not only by the horse, but by the rider as well, and was regarding her almost skeptically. "Yes, very well done," he agreed. "And the horse is just as impressive as you said. Perhaps I should take him for myself?" He looked sideways at Bronn, who only smirked at him.

"My horse," he snapped in response to Tyrion's jab, and gave a simple nod to Rowena. It was enough to let her know he was impressed. She couldn't suppress a satisfied smile, as she patted the horse's neck.

"And where did you find this horse?" Tyrion asked, turning to make polite conversation with her uncle.

"Oh, well, a man came along a few weeks back, said he was desperate for money to buy food to feed his family." Uncle Bayard explained. "Tried to pass him off as a destrier," he said, shaking his head as they both turned back to regard the animal standing in front of them. "But you can tell he's crossed, most likely with a courser. Makes for a fine horse, but of course not worth what he wanted for it, and he knew it. So we got him for a real honest price. Couldn't have done better. Rowena's done nearly all the work with him since he's been here."

He winked at Rowena, gave a friendly smile to the Imp, then turned a wary eye towards Bronn. He cleared his throat when he noticed that the sellsword was regarding his niece far more intently than the horse.

"She's somewhat attached to him, so you should feel fortunate she picked him out for you." Rowena noticed he spoke somewhat less politely to the sellsword than to the Lannister.

"He's not worth the price of a destrier," the older man continued, "but he's certainly no rounsey. But some don't like the idea of crossing, so...we can't expect to get much for him, and we don't need another horse to feed." He shrugged and Bronn acknowledged him with a nod, but said nothing in reply. The sellsword was now studying the horse more keenly.

Her uncle was right of course. He would make a superior horse for a sellsword, and she would wager Bronn had never been on such a horse either. She was only so lucky because she happened to be around when the horse came along. Otherwise, one of the boys would've jumped on the chance to work him, and she'd never have gotten near him. When she truly wanted something that would normally be left to the boys, she could almost always find a way to convince her uncle to let her at least have a try. When she saw this horse, it had been one of those times. Otherwise, she tried not to take advantage of the old man's paternal softness towards her.

Suddenly, she wondered, somewhat guiltily, if a sellsword, even one employed by a Lannister, might get an idea to try and sell a horse like this for money. She eyed him suspiciously, through narrowed eyes, and he seemed a bit taken aback when he noticed her looking at him that way.

"What he means is, you wouldn't get very much if you tried to sell him." She said flatly. As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

He raised his eyebrows, both surprised and somewhat amused by her boldness. "Oh is that what you're worrying yourself about, love?" She realized now he was not going to let the comment pass. "Don't worry, I wouldn't sell him for horseflesh, but I _would_ eat him if I had no other choice."

Tyrion looked at him in shock, but said nothing. He could only shake his head and sigh in resignation, as he turned to both apologize and say his goodbye's to Bayard.

Bronn ignored him, taking a step closer to the horse. "Lucky for me - or for him, " he continued, "my situation is such that I'm no longer lacking for food most days now."

"Well, I'm certain she's glad to hear that." interrupted Tyrion loudly, once again breaking the tension. "Shall we be on our way, Bronn?" The sellsword and Rowena still had their eyes locked on each other, when the smaller man cleared his throat loudly to get their attention.

They both looked at the little man then, Bronn insolently, Rowena sheepishly. She saw Tyrion rolling his eyes at Bronn, shaking his head again, as if he were dealing with two children. And then she felt badly about how she'd spoken in front of him, and thought that she had surely embarrassed her uncle. But her uncle knew she seldom spoke to anyone that way, unless they were truly deserving of it. Tyrion Lannister, however, did _not_ know her, so now he must think her a very rude and impudent girl.

Rowena felt very foolish now. She knew that to Bronn, it didn't matter what anyone thought, and wished she had that ability. But she didn't. She was thoroughly ashamed of her behavior. She tried her best not to pout, distracting herself by stroking the horse's neck, and avoiding eye contact with any of them.

She was grateful when her uncle thanked her again and waved her away, essentially excusing her. She slid from the horse's back and landed lightly on her feet, and led him back to the barn. Moments later, Bronn appeared at the stall door.

"Well that was quite a demonstration", he said, somewhat sarcastically. There was still a slight edge to his voice which made her cringe.

"I'm sorry," she said, still not meeting his eyes. "I didn't mean to be rude. I hope you'll forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive," He replied, waving a hand at her and shaking his head. "I like that you speak what's on your mind. Truth is, before I came upon this arrangement with Tyrion, I probably would've thought of doing just that,"

She looked up at him cautiously. "And besides", he continued, "I did tell you not to trust me." His eyes twinkled with a smile now.

She felt relieved but could only manage a weak smile, still feeling embarrassed by her behavior.

"We have business nearby, but we'll be back to pick him up in a few hours." He said and started to leave.

"Bronn?" she called after him, and he turned to look her. "I never thanked you for what you did yesterday."

"At your service, m'lady", he said with a broad smile, bowing towards her.

"Why thank you, m'lord", she replied with her own smile. At this he laughed, "Me, a lord? Not sure I'll live to see that."

"If I'm your lady, then you're my lord", she said with exaggerated seriousness. "That's how the game works."

"It's a game we played as children," she explained when he looked at her curiously. "We called each other lords and ladies, or sometimes the boys preferred to be knights."

"No queens or princesses?" He asked, looking at her thoughtfully.

"Not me," she said, shaking her head emphatically.

"Well, you are as much a lady as any I've met, moreso than some," he said, in all seriousness.

Her cheeks reddened at the compliment, and he seemed quite pleased now as he took his leave. When he was gone, she sighed with relief, and set about brushing the horse. She had that strange fluttery feeling in her stomach again, and spent the rest of the morning anxiously awaiting his return.


	6. Chapter 6 A Journey

**A Journey**

Later that morning, the two men returned for the horse. Bronn was riding the horse around in the paddock, getting used to the feel of him, when Grace came rushing into the yard with a letter for Rowena's Uncle Bayard.

"It's from your brother," she said, breathless and looking worried. He and Rowena exchanged nervous glances, and he opened the rolled parchment and squinted to read what was written there. He grimaced, looked around for anyone else to turn to, but eventually his eyes settled on Rowena.

"What is it?" she asked, knowing something was wrong.

"The old dog, Bet, is missing, along with a pregnant ewe. He says he can't find either of them." her uncle spoke solemnly. "He's asking for you to bring Kip to help them if you want. Says he can't spare a dog or anyone to go out and continue the search."

Rowena was at once sad and angry. She knew that Averet, Uncle Bayard's brother, and the man she had once considered her father, would just as soon let the old dog die alone than spare the time to search for him thoroughly. The ewe and lamb, however, were valuable to him. The dog, he knew, was valuable to _her_. Bet was well past 10 years old now, and had been the first dog she had truly bonded with, learned to train and work sheep with.

"I won't let you go without me," her uncle said firmly. "Not there, not now." He was shaking his head and rubbing his forehead. He knew Rowena would want to go look for the dog, and he knew he couldn't make the journey himself on horseback.

"We'll take a cart," he said. But they both knew that the only hay cart that they owned was out, and wouldn't be back until the following day.

"It would be quicker to go on horseback, uncle," she replied, as gently as possible.

"I don't have a horse to spare today, Rowena," he said, not wanting to meet her eyes. He was running his hands nervously through his thinning hair. "I have two grooms out with horses, and the other boys are gone to bring the hay. I have no one to accompany you on horseback, and I'm afraid I just can't make that trip. We'll have to wait until tomorrow or the next day."

He sat down heavily on a nearby bench. She knew he didn't want to disappoint her or upset her. He looked up at her, eyes filled with concern. "Are you sure you would want to go there yourself anyway?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "I could take a pair of the boys with me, or send them alone on horseback in your place."

"But they don't know the dog, or the land," she cried, now close to tears at the thought of her old dog alone and hurt, or worse. "Kip can help me find him, you know he can."

"I've got a horse," Bronn said with a crooked smile, sitting on his newly acquired mount. "I'm sure I could be spared to accompany the young lady, " he continued, looking at Tyrion.

Tyrion gave him another exasperated look, but said nothing. Uncle Bayard looked skeptically at Bronn and then at Tyrion.

"I don't know, could be cause for an overnight trip. Can your man really be trusted?" he asked the Imp.

"I give you my word as a Lannister he will be on his best behavior," Tyrion said, stressing the last two words deliberately. He gave Bronn a warning look, but received only a smile in return.

But when the uncle looked to Bronn with concern, the sellsword put on a serious face, and nodded, "I give you my word, I will keep her safe."

"That's my concern," the older man replied brusquely, "How good is the word of a sellsword, alone in the countryside with my niece?" He suddenly looked exhausted, and was beyond niceties.

Tyrion was looking positively angry now. She thought it was directed at Bronn, but she was sure this whole situation must be tedious and annoying to him. The sellsword was oblivious to his employer by this point, and challenged Rowena's uncle. "Time is of the essence, is it not? It will make for the fastest trip, and there's nobody better to deal with your brother than me."

Rowena looked from Bronn to her uncle then, wondering how the sellsword would know anything about Averet. She was also slightly annoyed with Bronn for being somewhat disrespectful to her uncle. She did not want this discussion to go on without getting some say in the matter.

"But that's only one horse," She protested, looking at all three of them for any response. They couldn't consider traveling on one horse. "Surely we can find another horse?" she said, finally turning her pleading eyes to her uncle. Somehow she didn't think they would have much affect on Bronn.

"Not if you want to get there before dark," the sellsword responded. Rowena knew they had plenty of time to find another horse and get there before dark, but she had to admit he was being quite persuasive. She sensed her uncle was going to yield.

"Grace can pack some food for you," the old man finally said wearily, "Go and fetch it, and then you can set off."

Rowena said nothing, but she was happy to leave the yard and be away from them at the moment, and hurried to the house in search of Grace. She was also sure that her uncle had more he wanted to say to Bronn before they left. Just how much about her former life had he shared with the other two men?

When she returned, her uncle and Tyrion Lannister were speaking quietly together, but broke off as soon as they saw her. They both smiled politely as she approached, but she knew they had been talking about her. Bronn was down from his horse. He had collected jugs of water and wine, and a bedroll. Now he was checking his saddle impatiently and looking slightly annoyed. Well he wasn't the only one. She hated having things decided for her this way, but it seemed it was settled. She would not give her uncle any additional cause for distress, so she held her tongue for the moment.

She walked up behind Bronn and cleared her throat to get his attention. He turned and saw her holding a bundle, and he held his hands out to take the food from her and stuff it into a saddle bag.

"Your horse, m'lady," he said, with an exaggerated flourish of his arm, as he stepped back to give her room to mount the horse.

"Thank you, my lord," she said frostily, quietly enough so that only he could hear. Of course this only made him smile, and she wanted to say something else, but decided not to. Poor Uncle Bayard was already racked with worry. She could see it on his face, and she felt bad for him. He suddenly looked older to her than she had recently noticed. She didn't need to add to his stress by bickering with the escort that he already had his own obvious concerns about.

"I'll be fine, Uncle," she reassured him, once she was in the saddle, "I promise." And she smiled at him, wishing she could show him with just a smile all the love and gratitude she felt for him.

Bayard, looking tired and defeated, managed a smile in return. He seemed a little more comfortable with the idea that she was going without him. She knew he wanted to be there to protect her when she faced his brother again, and hated admitting that he was too old to make the journey on horseback. Rowena knew that she and Bronn alone could travel much faster. But still, she would've preferred her own horse.

She moved her leg forward so Bronn could use the stirrup and he swung himself up behind her. She was suddenly very self-conscious being that close to him with her uncle and the Lannister Imp looking on. But she thought of the missing dog and the poor pregnant ewe, and tried to concentrate on her purpose as they made their way out of the stable yard and headed towards the road that would lead them out of the city.

The sun was bright and it was going to be a warm day, made more uncomfortable by riding double for hours. She shifted herself, still irritated, trying to get comfortable.

"Best be careful there," Bronn warned, and when she turned to look at him scornfully, he cast his eyes down, to where her body pressed against his.

She cut her eyes at him, only more annoyed, and faced forward again. "It was your idea to bring one horse." She said, not bothering to try and hide her anger.

"Aye, it was," he replied, and she didn't have to look at him to know he was smiling.

She gave an exasperated sigh but decided she must ask, "How did you get my uncle to agree to this?"

"Oh it seems you have more than one person looking out for your interests, and your virtue." he replied. "And I'll let you guess who's been hired to do just that."

Now she turned so abruptly in the saddle that he shrunk back in mock surprise. He was trying not to smile, and failing miserably.

"You're not serious?" She said in disbelief. He only shrugged. "Guess your uncle let Tyrion convince him I was the right man for the job."

Rowena turned back around in a huff, only to hear him chuckling behind her. Obviously her uncle had shared the story of why she had left the sheep farm in the first place, and that was humiliating enough. She wasn't sure how she should feel about this. She wanted to object to this arrangement, to complain how unfair it was to have things decided for her. She wanted to tell him to let her off his horse this instant. But she couldn't very well do that now, so instead she shoved and elbowed herself into a comfortable seat and didn't say another word.

After several minutes of silence, he spoke. "If you're going to be like that for the whole journey, I could make you walk."

"Fine, I'll walk." She replied stubbornly.

Bronn sighed in exasperation now. "No. You won't." He said calmly, as he wrapped his arm casually around her waist. Eventually, she grew tired of being indignant, and let herself relax against his chest.

"See, that's not so hard now, is it?" He said, and this time he didn't sound like he was mocking her. Still, she wasn't ready to make small talk, so she didn't respond. Neither of them said any more, but gradually it was a comfortable silence that fell between them, and she was soon feeling sleepy. She let her head fall back on his shoulder, and felt him lift his chin, probably out of the way of her wild hair, and his arm tightened just slightly around her waist. She sighed lazily, and the rhythm of the horse's swaying walk soon had her dozing.


	7. Chapter 7 Of Boys and Childhood

**Thoughts Of Boys and Childhood**

The horse faltered suddenly, jolting Rowena awake. "

Just a misstep," Bronn reassured her, his mouth close to her ear. As her sleepy head cleared, she realized that her hands had slid off the pommel and one of them was on top of his hand that circled her waist. She snatched it away as if something had bitten her, and then felt foolish. She sat up and stretched as well as she could, and then sat back against him again, surveying their surroundings and wondering where they were.

"What exactly has my uncle told you about me anyway?" she asked. She was too relaxed to be angry about it just now.

"Well, he told me of his concerns about Baelish first of all, the morning I came back with you. And told me he was at his wit's end over how to deal with it. I told him I would help where I could."

"You did?" she was surprised, but she also liked the idea that he had spoken up for her. Of course, it may have just been that he had seen an opportunity for money, but she didn't care at the moment.

"I did." Bronn replied. "And I asked him what your story was, and he told me about his brother. What his intentions towards you had become."

Rowena could hear the anger and disgust in his voice, but she didn't say anything, waiting for him to continue.

"And he told me that I might mention it to Tyrion," he went on. This was definitely surprising news to her, and she turned to look at him curiously.

"It seems he knew your mother," he continued, and she settled back in her seat, trying to absorb what he was saying. "She was someone he knew quite well at one point, and over the years he's kept up with your whereabouts and checked on you from time to time."

This was all very confusing, but explained the Lannister's occasional visits to her uncle. She didn't really know what to think. She wanted to ask so many questions, but it was all a bit overwhelming, so she stayed silent, and waited for him to continue.

"You will not be happy to know that we will be leaving one of the young squires outside the stables during the day, and he's to accompany you wherever you go. And we'll do everything possible to make sure Lord Baelish doesn't get anywhere near you in the future."

She sighed. Of course she hated the idea, but she was terribly frightened of the Lord, and was afraid he might just snatch her away one of these days and take her somewhere no one would find her. She shuddered at the thought, and Bronn pulled her tighter against him.

"Don't worry," he assured her, "I won't let him harm you. That will not be the life for you. We are all in agreement on that, your uncle, Tyrion, and myself."

She was relieved and felt sure he meant it, but part of her wondered if anyone could really protect her from that man. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. She felt a great sense of relief, about Lord Baelish and about coming face to face with her uncle, knowing Bronn was on her side. But most comforting of all right now, she realized, was how safe she felt leaning against this man, with his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. Despite his rough exterior and sometimes abrasive manners, she had put her trust in him, for better or for worse.

"Now I have a question for you," he spoke after a period of silence. "I understand your concerns about Baelish…" He hesitated then, and she turned her head to look up at him, from where she relaxed against his chest.

"Is it the idea of being with a man that you oppose? Or the man himself?"

"It's the man himself, of course" she replied, knowing that her face had turned red over the other half of the question. "He's cruel and he frightens me more than anyone I've ever met."

"So you _do_ think of things other than dogs and horses then?" he said. He was teasing, but his tone was lighthearted, and she knew his smile had returned.

"Of course I do." She replied, less embarrassed now that he was being playful. "I think about men, but my situation doesn't make it very likely for me to find a husband. I'm happy most of the time, with my rooms over the barn, all to myself. But sometimes…" she sighed as she trailed off. "It's pointless anyway."

"Sometimes what?" He prodded gently

"Anytime a boy has shown the slightest interest in me at the stables, my uncle finds some reason to send him away. His brother did the same thing with his _own sons_, and they were nothing more than playmates and friends. We were _children_, for goodness sake. I thought of them like brothers…mostly. But you know they weren't my true brothers and sisters." She trailed off here, and he knew she wasn't saying something.

"But you liked one of them, more than the others?"

She hesitated, but his voice was soft and gentle, hypnotizing her.

"Yes," she admitted, wondering why she was bothering to tell him this. She blamed it on the fact that her head was still fuzzy from sleep, but she had really never had anyone to talk to about it.

She had few girlfriends. Most couldn't stand the stables. All they could think of was when they would find a boy to kiss, to marry, to make babies with. It was more than she could stand sometimes, so she tended to avoid them. Most of the girls in town thought her strange anyway, with her preferences for being dirty, wearing breeches instead of dresses half the time, and spending all of her time with animals. She herself thought they were silly and ridiculous, always giggling about boys and new dresses and how to wear their hair, none of which seemed nearly as interesting to her as dogs and horses.

Rowena was surprised when Bronn didn't press her any further, leaving her to her own thoughts.

She smiled when she thought of Jon, the eldest son of the shepherd, Averet. He had lovely amber eyes and dark curly hair. She sighed aloud.

Rowena's early life on the farm had been a happy one. But when Averet's wife, Anne, died, things changed, and the farm was not the happy home it had once been. The children were left to themselves a great deal, and they bonded together to take care of each other and keep each other from being too sad at losing the only mother they'd ever known. The farmer was deeply saddened when he lost his wife, and they thought he would never recover. He became more volatile, more unpredictable and scary to be around, especially when he drank too much wine. So the children found their havens outside of the house – in the barn, with the animals, and in the pastures and the forest.

Jon and Rowena had started spending more time apart from the other children, wandering off on their own to explore the forest. They both loved the quiet beauty of the trees, and shared the same fascination with the strange creatures they encountered. They had been the best of friends their whole lives, but as he got older, she realized he was starting to look at her differently. Even the way he touched her shoulder or held her hand was different, and his touch made her feel different.

One day when they had been alone, sitting next to a gurgling stream, watching the water massage the smooth stones, Jon had told Rowena he wanted to kiss her. She was surprised, because it simply hadn't occurred to her. She was barely thirteen, but when she looked at him, and saw how he was looking at her, with his sweet, pleading eyes, she couldn't say no. And he had kissed her, just barely touching his lips against hers, but sending strange sensations through her body that she had never known before.

From then on, they would sneak off to the woods and walk hand in hand, and he would kiss her on the cheek and only occasionally on the lips. She thought she could never be happier, and Jon admitted as much to her himself. After all, they were not true brother and sister. She had come to the farm as an infant. No one ever told her anything about her true parents, and after a point, she had just blended in with the shepherd's family as if they were her parents.

Eventually, the day came when the father seemed to notice that she and Jon had grown much closer, and that Jon was becoming a man, at nearly sixteen. And it was as if, once Averet realized how Jon was seeing Rowena, the old man suddenly saw her as Jon saw her. She was young and pretty and becoming a young woman, no longer just a child. But when Rowena caught the old man looking at her in that way, it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She started to avoid him as much as possible, which only made him more jealous of her bond with his son. Finally one day, the father announced that Jon would be going away. Averet had found him a proper and suitable wife, and Jon would have his own home and piece of land. His new home would be far far away from them, and they were not likely to see him again.

She and Jon had escaped to the woods at dawn the very next morning and cried together. He told her he would never marry another, and that he loved her, and would tell his father so. Rowena believed everything he said was true, but she knew that his father would never allow them to be together now. And that was how her childish heart had been broken, and her dearest friend ripped from her life forever, in order to clear the way for his own father to make his vile desires known.

It was Anne who had shown the children affection. Her husband only seemed to just tolerate them, but he was always fair and never too harsh with them, before his wife died. Rowena knew she did not have the affection for him that she did for Anne, but still, he was the only father she had ever known. So when he came to her with his proposition, shortly after her fourteenth name day, she was shocked and horrified. He wanted to marry her and make her his wife! Averett was nearly thirty years her senior, and to Rowena, he was an old man, who smelled bad and was always drunk on wine. He had two daughters older than Rowena herself. She was terrified and disgusted at the prospect, and cried herself to sleep in her room. The older girls had tried to comfort her, the younger ones didn't understand, but they all wanted her to stay. To them she was part of their family. But Rowena couldn't bear the thought of it, and had begged the eldest daughter to send word to their aunt and uncle. The children knew them to be very kindhearted and gentle people, with no children of their own. Rowena thought they might be her only hope.

Rowena wondered now why she hadn't sent the crow herself. The eldest daughters had continued the lessons that Anne had taught them in reading and writing and needlework, to the best of their abilities. Perhaps she was just too young to realize she could do anything herself about her circumstances at the time. But the eldest daughter was not completely happy about the idea of Rowena becoming her father's wife, so she sent a message early the next morning. By the next day's end, the aunt and uncle, Rosamond and Bayard, had arrived, and Rowena knew when she saw them that they would help her.

There had been a great deal of shouting from inside the house, as all the children hid in the barn. Averet made accusations about Rowena and Jon, and Jon was long gone and could not help her or defend her now. But Uncle Bayard won out eventually, and sent Roasamond to fetch Rowena and the other girls, and had them help her pack all of her things that very day. They told her they would not leave her there alone, and would depart for the city the next morning.

On the trip home, her Aunt Rosamond had cried, and both of them told her how sorry they were that they had not thought to check on her. Bayard was angry that he had not realized how much his brother Averet had started drinking since his wife's death. And they very cautiously asked her if Averet had ever touched her, or tried to, and she had told them, through freely flowing tears of relief, that once he had started hugging her too tightly and too closely, she had tried never to be alone with him. She saw something frightening in his eyes, but he never got closer to her than that, and she could see how relieved they were.

They asked about Jon, too, and she knew they had been told lies. She told them every bit of the truth, and begged them to send word so that Jon could confirm her account. But they comforted her and told her it was not necessary. They themselves could also confirm what she believed about Jon. That he had truly cared for her, and that neither of them had done anything to be ashamed of. But Jon was already married and there was nothing to be done about it now. They thought it best if the two did not see each other for the time being.

They assured Rowena that she and Jon were innocent. Their behavior was normal and natural and nothing more than they themselves had done as children before they were wed. Rosamond told her over and over to never think of the ugly things Averet had said about her. They were truly good and honorable people, Bayard and Rosamond. Rowena promised them on that journey home, that she would always be good, and try to behave like a proper girl, and work as hard as she could. But the main thought in her head was that she would never ever have to return to that place.


	8. Chapter 8 Rescue

**Rescue**

"Care to stop and stretch your legs a bit?" Bronn asked gently, and Rowena realized he must've thought she was asleep. She had been lost in her thoughts, and near tears at the memories of Jon, and how lucky she'd been for the kindness of her Aunt Rosamond and Uncle Bayard. She rubbed at her eyes as if she was sleepy, glad that Bronn didn't notice. He was already off in search of a spot to relieve himself, leaving her alone with the horse.

They had stopped near a stream so she led the horse over to drink, with Kip bounding ahead of her. The red and white dog found a shallow spot and laid down in the cool water, lapping it up with his tongue as he cooled his feet and belly.

When Bronn returned they found a shady spot near the water's edge to sit down and give the horse and dog a rest.

"So tell me about this boy of yours," he said, "Will I get to meet him?"

"His name was Jon, he was the oldest." She replied softly, hoping her emotions would not get the best of her. "He was married off and sent away. We never saw him again. He was my best friend out of all the children."

"More than friends though, eh?" he asked carefully.

"I don't know, I guess we thought so at the time. But I was only thirteen. I did love him, but I don't know if it was the same as when a woman loves a man." She shrugged and looked at him, but she couldn't read his face. "What about you?" She ventured. "Were you ever married? Have any children hidden away somewhere?"

"NO to the wife," he replied emphatically, "and no children that I'm aware of." He gave her a guilty smile.

She returned the smile and studied him as he leaned his head back against a tree and closed his eyes. She knew so little about this man, but she was drawn to him almost as much as she could be frustrated by him. The more time she spent with him, the more his rough looks appealed to her. She liked his strong hands and was even growing fond of his beard, which she never cared for on men. But it was his pale blue eyes that fascinated her the most. They stood in such contrast to the rest of him, his manner and his appearance, which could be dark and menacing.

"What?" he said suddenly, startling her from her observations.

"Nothing," she replied innocently. He opened one eye to look at her suspiciously.

"Just thinking," she said, finally getting a chance to laugh at him for a change.

"Hmm" was his only response and his eyes were closed again. She turned to watch the water instead, smiling to herself.

After a short rest and some water, they were on their way again. Rowena started to recognize familiar landmarks, and that was when she felt her stomach turning. Had she really thought she would get through this so easily? They finally came over a hilltop, and the farmhouse was in view. It was situated high on a hillside, above a green valley, where it was easy to keep an eye on the pastures and livestock below. Behind the house and to the north was a dense forest.

When she saw the house, Rowena felt the first feelings of panic. She reached over Bronn's hands and tugged on the reins to bring the horse to a stop.

"You're not a little girl anymore," he said calmly. "He can't do anything to hurt you. And he won't be the same man you remember. He's old and weak and sick from too much wine. You'll see."

She turned and gave him a half-hearted smile, hoping he read the thank you that she was unable to voice just then.

"Ready?" He asked after a few moments.

"Maybe we should walk the rest of the way?" she suggested nervously.

"Once we reach the bottom of the hill, we'll walk." His voice was gentle and calming, and she took a deep breath and steeled herself.

"Alright, ready." She said, as confidently as she could manage.

"Besides," he said, as he urged the horse to walk on, "you've got me and this vicious beast here to protect you." He looked down at Kip, who looked at him as if he understood, and wagged his tail."

Rowena looked down at the smiling, wagging dog, and she did feel a little calmer.

Impulsively, she put her hand on top of Bronn's, which was at her waist, and whispered, "You won't leave me alone with him?"

"No, love," he assured her. "I have my orders. I go wherever you go." And she kept her hand pressed firmly on his, as he held her tightly against him.

At the bottom of the hill, he dismounted and helped her off, and they continued on foot. She gave up on stilling the sickening twisting of her stomach, and just allowed herself to sit with the anxious feelings, knowing they wouldn't go away until she actually came face to face with Averet.

As they neared the house, a young boy came running down to greet them. Rowena thought he must be about thirteen or fourteen, and wondered if he could be the youngest child, who had been about eight when she'd left. He was the last of Anne's children. She had died shortly after his birth. It had been a difficult birthing, and afterwards, Anne continued to bleed for several days, and the life was literally drained from her body. It had been a horrible time for them all.

Behind him there were two more, much younger children, who she didn't recognize. They had obviously come after she'd gone away, and she wondered who they belonged to. She had no idea if either of the other girls had married.

The first adult she recognized was Metylda, the eldest daughter, who would be a woman of three and twenty now. She greeted Rowena with a sincere smile and a warm hug, and then started the introductions.

"You may not recognize this one," she said, hugging the older boy around the shoulders, "but this is Godefry. He was but a child when you left."

"Godefry! I thought it was you!" Rowena greeted him with a smile. "How you have grown. You are nearly a man now, aren't you?"

"I am." he said proudly, jutting his chin out, "I can tend a flock of fifty sheep and work the dogs all on my own now."

Now a man Rowena didn't know came up behind Metylda and put his hands protectively on her shoulders. "And this is my husband, Dreu," Metylda said, placing a hand on his. They appeared to be a very happy couple, like Bayard and Rosamond. Dreu regarded Rowena very kindly, and nodded politely to Bronn.

"Metylda has told me all about you, Rowena. I'm very glad to meet you." he said. His eyes were kind and his words genuine. "I hope your trip was not too long?" He and Metylda looked from her to Bronn curiously, and she realized she would have to explain his presence.

One of the little boys was now tugging at Metylda's skirt, peeking up shyly at Rowena, and observing Bronn with fear. "And this is our son, Amfrid." Both parents looked down proudly at the little boy, his father mussing his hair and telling him not to be shy.

"Hello, Amfrid," Rowena said, bending down to greet the child, but he hid behind his mother's skirts, staring at Bronn.

"This is Bronn," Rowena began as she stood up. She now wondered why she had not thought to prepare her explanation along the way. "He is a..friend…of Uncle Bayard, who of course insisted I not travel alone."

Dreu smiled and reached his hand out to Bronn, and they began making small talk about the trip from the city. Metylda looked at Rowena knowingly, and could not resist giving her another hug. "I'm so sorry, Rowena," she said, and Rowena thought she sounded near tears. "We missed you so after you left. You look wonderful."

"Thank you, Metylda", Rowena replied. "You have a lovely family. I hope you are truly happy. And please don't be sorry," she added, fearing now she might cry herself, "It was you who saved me after all."

Rowena already felt much better after the reception they received from the young married couple, but they still had Averet to face. She and Metylda walked towards the house, arm in arm, with Bronn and Dreu following behind.

The old man who came hobbling to the door, was not, as Bronn had predicted, the same man she remembered. He had been a big man, like his brother, but the complete opposite in temper, angry and short-tempered. Now he was nothing but a frail and feeble old man, hunched over and shrunken by age. But when he saw her, she could see that age had not tempered his anger or hatred. His eyes were filled with fury, and his face turned bright red.

"How dare you bring a stranger to my house!" He bellowed, or attempted to, for he was immediately gripped with a fit of coughing.

"Was the only way she was coming to your house," Bronn replied for her, stepping up so that he stood just to the side and in front of Rowena. He made no attempt at politeness.

The old man eyed Bronn warily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He leaned on the doorway for support, and his second eldest daughter, Emelin, rushed to his side to assist him. She gave Rowena an angry look, and barely acknowledged Bronn.

"Please don't upset him, Rowena," she said angrily. "You can see he's not well."

Rowena was surprised by her tone, but held her tongue. This was not what she was here for. "We've only come after the missing sheep and Bet. Just tell us where to look."

Amfrid ran to stand in front of them now. "I can take you, Rowena!" He said excitedly.

"No you won't," the old man argued.

Metylda stepped forward, smiling kindly at Rowena, and spoke to her father. "Let him go, father," she pleaded gently. "He only wants to help. It will be good for him."

The old man grumbled, and shuffling his feet, turned away to disappear back into the house. Emelin gave them all one more angry look, and turned to follow him. The second child, who they had seen in the field, and who Metylda had not introduced, was hanging onto her skirts and mimicked her angry look as he followed her into the house.

Rowena wondered who the child's father was, and then a frightening thought occurred to her, but she dismissed it immediately. She turned to look at Bronn, and thought if ever in her life she would like to be held in a man's arms, it was this moment. As if he could read her mind, he put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, and she smiled at him gratefully.

"Shall we go and find ourselves this dog of yours?" he said, managing a smile that she knew was for her sake only. She could see the anger he felt for Averet in his eyes still.

As Godefry led them down to the pastures where the sheep grazed, they met Averet's second eldest son, Garit. He was younger than Rowena by two years, but he already looked much older. He was sullen and thin, and looked as if he could use a good meal and some rest. She thought he must have been taking on a great deal of responsibility and was glad he had Metylda's husband to help him. She was sure he wished that he had escaped the farm as his older brother had, but he had remained loyal to his father. Rowena hoped it would not make him bitter over time.

"Rowena, is that you?" he cocked his head as he regarded her, trying to reconcile the little girl he remembered with the young woman who stood before him.

"Yes, Garit, it's me," she smiled. "I hope you are well. It's good to see you again."

He gave her a weak smile, but she could see the sadness in his eyes. "I stay busy, that's for certain."

Then he spotted Kip, and called out the dog's name. Kip ran right to him, and Rowena clasped her hands to her heart, and fought back tears again. Garit was a good man, clearly, just like his older brother. "What a fine dog he's turned out to be!" he exclaimed as he knelt down and ruffled the dog's fur. "You picked a good one, Rowena." he said, smiling up at her.

Rowena returned his smile, and knew he was right. She would be forever grateful to her Uncle Bayard for insisting that she be allowed to take the puppy with her when she left. Averet had resisted at first. But Kip was a red dog, and Averet had been known to cull any puppy with red markings that was born into a litter of his. It was precisely why Rowena had chosen Kip in the first place.

"Since when have you placed any value on a red sheep dog?" Her Uncle Bayard had challenged, knowing his brother just as well as anyone. At that point, Averet yielded, and Kip had escaped the farm along with Rowena.

"So you've come looking for Bet, I suppose?" Garit asked as he got to his feet. Rowena nodded, and he told them to take Amfrid with them, for he knew better than anyone where the ewes might stray from the flock to birth their lambs.

Garit turned out to be right. It took over half an hour, and was a difficult climb over rocks and thru a densely wooded area, but Amfrid knew just where to look. As they came to a clearing, they spotted the ewe and a newborn lamb, and the old dog Bet, laying faithfully beside her. Rowena wondered how on earth the sheep had made it here. Amfrid told them there was an easier path to the clearing, which the sheep would take, but that it took twice as long as the way they'd come. He was immensely proud of himself for leading them to the missing animals, telling them that his grandfather had forbade anyone to come this far.

Bronn patted Amfrid on the back and told him he'd done well. The boy smiled and seemed to bask in the praise, and Rowena was glad to see he was no longer afraid of her dark sellsword.

When Rowena called to Bet as she approached, the old dog wagged his tail slowly. He tried to rise, but she could tell he was weak, and when he finally got to his feet, he staggered. She rushed over to him and urged him to lie down. They had brought a jug of water, which he lapped thirstily from the mouth of the container as they poured it for him.

Amfrid was checking the lamb, who appeared to be perfectly healthy, and they decided they would take the long way back. The young boy insisted on carrying the newborn lamb himself. Rowena went to pick up the dog, but Bronn put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She was not used to stepping back to allow men and boys to do things for her, except when it came to very heavy things, but this time she did. She watched as he gently lifted the old dog, and cradled him in his arms. She stroked Bet's head gently and let him lick her in the face and told him what a good boy he was. She caught Bronn looking at her, amused, and shaking his head. "He's not a person, you know."

"No," she replied sadly, "He's better than many a person I've met."

He admitted he could not argue with her there, and they set off. With the bleating lamb being carried away, the ewe was quick to follow. Kip fell in behind her, just in case.


	9. Chapter 9 Revelation

**Revelation**

As they made the long walk back to the house, Rowena wondered why Averet had actually requested her presence here. It would certainly have been simple enough to have any one of his children or grandchildren find the missing sheep, and she knew he had no concern for Bet. She mentioned it to Bronn, who had already had the same thought.

"Must be some reason," he said, "but maybe we won't find out. If we get back quickly enough, we can make the ride home tonight and be done with the man and this place."

"I would like that very much." Rowena replied, again feeling so grateful for his presence..

But by the time they reached the house, Rowena now carrying the newborn lamb and Bronn carrying the old dog, the skies were dark and ominous. They heard rumbling in the distance and looked at each other with concern.

"Doesn't bode well for us getting back before dark tonight," her sellsword mused aloud.

Rowena felt the sick feeling in her stomach again. She was surprised to see Averet outside when they returned, closely flanked by Emelin and the child that Rowena assumed was hers.

"Well, you found them all then. Figured that worthless dog had wandered off and died somewhere." He said with a bit of annoyance. "Now he's nothing but another mouth to feed."

Rowena tried her best not to let his words affect her, because she knew that was just what he wanted. Of course he didn't offer any thanks to them for their efforts, but Rowena only cared that she had found the dog. She wished she could take Bet home to live out the rest of his days with her, but she knew that Garit, Godefrey and Amfrid would make sure the dog was well cared for.

Rowena saw Metylda give her father a stern look, and he cleared his throat, and finally spoke grudgingly.

"Well, I guess we owe you at least supper for your troubles" he said tersely. "And I suppose this weather might make for a delay in your return."

"Rowena, you may stay in the house," he announced. "But not you." He said directly to Bronn, "You'll have to stay in the barn, with the other animals, sellsword."

"I stay with the girl. No exceptions." Bronn replied calmly.

"Well then you can both sleep in the barn or be off." Averett hissed, his eyes filled with fury.

Before Rowena could say anything, the sellsword spoke up. "Barn it is, then." He said with a shrug. "Thank you for your hospitality." Rowena couldn't resist giving Averet a look of triumph and contempt.

Averet's face was turning bright red again, and his body trembled with anger, but he did not speak. Perhaps he wanted to avoid another coughing fit, thought Rowena. At that moment, she had an unwelcome pang of empathy for the old man. She knew it must be hard on his pride that he was too old to work his own farm now, and it was obvious that the children no longer feared him. But it was only a fleeting moment, and then it was replaced again by anger for the way he spoke to Bronn.

Metylda broke the silence by announcing they should all get inside before the rains came, and have their supper. Amfrid and Godefry hurried off to put the animals in the barn.

Inside the house, the adults all sat at the table, and once the children were assembled, Emelin herded them all into another room with their food. She did not speak to Rowena or Bronn, but mostly stood behind her father's chair, fetched him whatever he asked for, and kept a hand on his shoulder. Rowena looked at Bronn, and he merely raised his eyebrows. She knew he was thinking the same thing she was about the relationship between Averet and his daughter Emelin.

During supper, Rowena was so caught up in animated conversation with Metylda, Dreu and Garit, that she could almost forget the angry old man and his glowering daughter at the other end of the table. She was truly glad to see every one of them. Finally, when they were mostly finished with their meal, Averet cleared his throat again, and made it clear he wished to speak.

"Rowena, you may think it strange that I requested your presence," he started, "but I have something I would like to discuss with you if no one objects."

He looked around at his children, who quickly excused themselves one by one. Averet looked at Bronn, who had not moved from his chair. "You heard me," the old man growled, "I would like to speak to Rowena privately."

"And I'm sure you heard me earlier when I told you I will not leave her side." Bronn replied. Rowena thought that Averet was even more enraged by the sellsword's casual tone and attitude than by his words.

Averet turned to her then, and his look was accusing. "Your uncle claims to be so concerned about your welfare, and your virtue, yet he allows you to travel alone with this person?"

"Yes," she replied, trying to be as calm as Bronn, but her voice betrayed her a little. "My Uncle and Tyrion Lannister have placed their trust in him, as have I."

She watched him as she spoke. At the mention of the name Lannister, Averet was visibly surprised, as Rowena had hoped he would be. When he spoke again, he was almost polite.

"I only need a few moments of your time, Rowena" he said. "Can you convince this person to leave us?"

"I am sorry I cannot. Anything you need to discuss with me, you may say in front of Bronn." She was feeling a bit stronger now, and was reinforced when she saw Bronn lean back in his chair and fold his arms, a typical insolent smirk on his face.

Averet hesitated, clearly trying to control his anger now, and having a hard time of it.

"I know that your situation with your aunt and uncle has worked well for you these past few years." he began, "But I also know that your prospects for marriage are, well, non-existant." Rowena could not imagine where he was going with this, but listened politely, waiting for him to continue.

"I wanted to let you know that I would allow you to return here to live, and to marry my son, Garit, so that you might have a secure future, and I might have more grandsons to continue the farm when I'm gone." He finished, and regarded them both arrogantly.

Rowena was sure the shock was apparent on her face. "You…would…._allow_ me?" She spoke as if she was not sure she had heard him correctly. She realized she had pushed her chair back from the table, as if to stand, and then thought it best to remain seated. "You must surely be joking?" She said in disbelief, but in her head she screamed the words at him. "You would allow me." she repeated the words slowly, staring down at the table, not speaking to anyone in particular.

"I am most certainly not joking." Averet replied haughtily. "I took you in, a bastard child, raised you as my own daughter. I would think you would feel some amount of gratitude for that."

Rowena actually laughed. "Gratitude?" she cried, still staring at the table. But then she could find no other words, and only shook her head. She felt very confused. Bronn stood and came behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for the meal," he said. She was amazed at how calmly he could speak at this moment, but there was an ominous tone to his voice. "We appreciate your hospitality, but I believe enough has been said, and we will take our leave. We will not trouble you further."

He leaned over and spoke softly in her ear. "Come." As he pulled out her chair and offered his hand to help her to her feet. She felt she must be having another nightmare, and that she would wake up at any moment. She was not sure she could walk on her shaking legs. She wasn't even sure of what she was feeling just then, anger or shock. Bronn's hand was on the small of her back, guiding her towards the door, and with his other hand he held tightly to her arm.

As they reached the doorway, Averet spoke behind them. "No matter. She will end up a whore, just like her true mother." His words were venomous.

She stopped then, and heard the voice next to her quietly say, "Don't." It was a command, not a suggestion. But she could not have spoken if she wanted to. In fact, she could not move. Suddenly, she felt as if she could not breathe, and she was very dizzy. Then she felt herself being scooped up, and carried away. She wrapped her arms around Bronn's neck, laid her head against his chest and began to cry.


	10. Chapter 10 Dreamtalk

**Dreamtalk**

Rowena didn't know how long she had cried, or even why she had cried. She had always thought she was past caring about her birth parents. Perhaps a part of her knew that her mother had to have had a scandalous life, and that's why she didn't pursue it. But she supposed the biggest shock was that everyone had told her they knew nothing about her birth parents, and she had never questioned that. Now, in just one day, she had learned that her mother was well-known to Tyrion Lannister, and that Averet knew at least one thing about her. She supposed she should've guessed that any woman the Imp knew well would have to be a whore. It was no secret to anyone that he spent large piles of money on women and wine.

She was laying with her head on Metylda's lap, and Metylda was stroking her hair and talking to her in soothing tones. Rowena thought Metylda must be a very good mother, but she didn't hear most of what the woman was saying. Someone had given her something to drink at some point that made her very calm and sleepy, and now, she didn't feel anything, even when she tried. No anger, no sadness, just empty. She caught parts of the one-sided conversation. Metylda felt sure Bronn would like to put his sword through Averet's chest. And she wondered how differently things might have turned out if their mother had not died. "You would have married Jon" Metylda mused, "and we would all still be a happy family, all together."

"Where is he?" Rowena asked sluggishly, when she realized she didn't hear Bronn's voice.

"He's just outside speaking with Dreu and Garit," Metylda said softly, pointing to the doorway, "See?"

Rowena looked towards the open door, and saw the men outside, protected from the rain by the overhanging roof. The other two men had their backs to her, but Bronn was facing the door so that he could still see her from where he stood. This made her smile weakly, and when he saw her looking at him, he excused himself and came over to where she and Metylda sat on the floor.

"Are we leaving soon?" she asked, suddenly confused about the time of day.

"We'll leave in the morning, raining or not." He assured her. "But we should get some sleep now." She could only nod her head in reply, and sat up slowly as Metylda moved to leave.

"I've brought you some sheepskin to put down over the hay and to keep you warm," Metylda told Rowena, looking concerned.

"I'm fine," Rowena said sleepily, trying to manage a smile. "Really."

"Alright," Metylda said, bending to kiss her cheek. "Sleep well and we will see you off in the morning."

They watched her leave and close the door behind her. Then Bronn asked Rowena how she was feeling. "Like I'm dreaming," she said, "but not a nightmare anymore. What did I drink?"

"Dreamwine," he replied, "They keep some hidden away from that…" he broke off and shook his head. "Water?"

"Yes, please," she responded as best she could, though the dreamwine made it hard for her to form the words. "Then sleep?"

"Yes," he said, touching her cheek for a moment, "then sleep." He went to get the jug of water, and brought the jug of wine back for himself.

There was no room over the barn here like there was at home. But Metylda had laid down sheepskin over some hay in a relatively clean spot. Rowena didn't remember them, or the sheep, smelling so awful, but she supposed it was because she was used to horses now.

Rowena drank her water slowly. Bronn had to help her hold the jug, and her eyelids were heavy. She wondered if she could stand up. But before she could try, Bronn had lifted her up and placed her on the sheep skins. "Here, lie down," he said. Pulling his cloak over both of them, he curled up behind her and put his arm tightly around her waist. She placed her hand over his and curled her fingers around his hand, too tired to be timid, or maybe it was the dreamwine. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt bathed in a feeling of warmth and safety that she wasn't sure she'd ever felt before.

When she woke some time later, Rowena found that she had turned over in her sleep. She was facing Bronn, her head resting on his arm and tucked under his chin. Her face was close to his chest, and she breathed in the scent of him. His arm was around her waist, and one of his legs draped over both of hers. She tipped her head up, and without thinking, reached up and touched her lips very softly to his neck, thinking he was asleep. He startled her when he pulled back so that he could look into her face, and then took her chin in his hand and gazed into her eyes. She boldly put her hand up to touch his cheek.

"Did you know?" she asked him. There was no accusation in her question. She was still calm and relaxed from the dreamwine.

"I guessed as much", he replied, "Tyrion never told me, and I never asked. But any woman that man knows _well_…" He shrugged, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"Yes," she agreed, "I should have realized that when you told me." Then she had a thought that had not yet occurred to her. "He's not…?"

"No." he said firmly, anticipating her question. "That I _did_ ask him, and he said he was quite sure at the time that he was not the father.

"Did he tell you anything else?" she asked hesitantly, wondering if she really wanted to know.

"No, he didn't offer any more information and I didn't ask." He replied. "Told him I didn't want to know. Your uncle said you had never really asked about your mother, so I didn't think it was my place to."

"Will you ask him?" she asked softly.

He gave her a worried look. "Are you sure? It might be best if you spoke to him directly."

Rowena shook her head. "I'd rather hear it from you than from him."

Bronn only nodded in response, and kissed her forehead. She laid her head back down on his arm, and he combed his fingers thru her hair and caressed her cheek.

"What were you talking to Dreu and Garit about?"

"Oh, I think they were trying to distract me with stories about your childhood," he said with a laugh. "They were concerned I might go back to the house after their father.".

"And what did they tell you?" she felt herself almost smiling. She could not remember feeling this relaxed in ages.

"Well, I understand you have at least been kissed by a boy?" he teased.

"Yes," she replied, too sleepy to be defensive, as she would normally have been over such a question.

"Have you ever been kissed by a man?" was his next question.

"No." she replied, the fluttery feeling in her stomach was back.

"Would you like to be?" his tone was thoughtful and curious, not the wicked smiling Bronn she was used to sparring with.

"Are you saying you want to kiss me, Bronn?" she said, suppressing a sudden urge to giggle.

"Don't be coy." He scolded gently. "You know very well I'd like to more than kiss you. All the time on that horse together, you must've noticed".

She didn't know what to say to that. He sensed her embarrassment and laughed.

"It _was_ your idea to bring one horse." She reminded him.

"Ay, it was," he said, and laughed again.

"Why don't you kiss me now then?" she tilted her faced up towards his again, feeling bold.

He took her chin in his hand and gave her a serious look. "Because I've made promises to your uncle, and I mean to keep them. You and I will come to some sort of agreement, I promise you that. But if I don't keep my word now, he'll try his best to make sure I never see you again."

She sighed, dropping her gaze to his chest, where her hands idly played with the fabric of his tunic. She realized she was disappointed.

"Do you understand?" he asked, grabbing her chin in his hand again to make her look him in the eye.

"Yes, I think so." She reached up and kissed his neck again, before he could protest, pressing her lips against his skin a little longer this time. Then she tucked her head against his chest and closed her eyes. Soon she was fast asleep again.


	11. Chapter 11 Tell Me a Story

**Tell Me a Story**

The trip home was much more pleasant. They had broken their fast with the cheese and bread from Grace just before sunrise. And shortly after that, they made hurried goodbyes to everyone. There was no sign of Averet or Emelin, but Emelin's little boy peered at them sadly from the doorway, and Rowena felt sorry for him. But she wanted to be gone from the place more than anything. Soon they were on their way, and she felt that a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"How are you feeling?" Bronn asked as they made their way to the top of the hill. The farm would soon be out of site.

"I feel so much better today." She replied. "Because of Averet, I've been determined not to ever let him or anyone else see me cry, or know they've hurt me. I think yesterday I cried every tear I've been fighting over the years." Since that first awful day Averet came to her, Rowena had been determined not to let anyone see her emotions. Aside from her uncle Bayard, she had never let anyone see her cry since then. Until Bronn.

"I understand." He replied. "Learned from a very young age that crying only made things worse for me." She could hear the resentment in his voice. She was sure his childhood had been much worse than her own.

"You're allowed to cry though," he added gently. And then without warning, he urged the horse forward, and Rowena instinctively grabbed handfuls of mane. She shrieked in surprise and delight as the horse went into a full gallop, quickly adding more distance between them and the farmhouse.

It was so exhilarating, with the wind in her face, and Bronn holding her tightly. When he finally slowed the horse back to a walk, she was actually laughing. "All behind you now," Bronn whispered in her ear. "You will never go back there again." Rowena grabbed his hand and lifted it to her lips, kissing the back of his hand, and feeling so much gratitude, and more, for this man right now.

He brushed his hand over the hair on the back of her head, and she realized it must be quite wild this morning, unbraided, after that gallop. She smoothed it down the best she could, and pulled all of it forward over one shoulder, and started to braid it so it would be out of the way.

She heard a loud exaggerated sigh behind her. "What?" she asked in response.

"You are tempting me with this bare skin" he said, as he brushed her bare neck with the back of his hand. Rowena felt the strange tingling throughout her body, that was growing more and more familiar to her. She inhaled sharply when she felt his lips on her neck just below her ear. He trailed soft kisses down to her shoulder, and she closed her eyes. She realized it was a good thing one of them had some self control, because she knew she would be too weak to resist him at this point. And she was quite sure he knew exactly what affect he was having on her.

As they continued along, she allowed herself to relax and take in their surroundings, which were quite beautiful. She and Bronn were both quiet and content. It was mid-morning by the time they reached the city, and Rowena felt the first feelings of anxiety that their time together would soon come to an end.

When they reached the stable yard, Tyrion Lannister and her Uncle Bayard were both waiting for them, pacing anxiously. She could tell by the way they watched her carefully that they'd had some sort of message from the farm. Rowena avoided looking at the Imp as they dismounted, and ran straight to her uncle. He grabbed her in his arms and lifted her off the ground with a great big hug. She thought he might cry, and was so touched she was afraid her own tears might return. But she found she was still quite empty of any tears, and was able to give him a real smile.

Next he turned to Bronn, and shook his hand and thanked him profusely, and Rowena was quite surprised. He seemed genuinely grateful and almost accepting of Bronn now. She wondered what message he had received and who sent it.

"You must go to your Aunt Rosamond at once" he said, turning back to Rowena. "She's been quite worried about you."

Rowena nodded, but stood for a moment, feeling awkward, not ready to leave Bronn without saying goodbye. Her uncle seemed to catch on suddenly, and offered to hold the horse if Bronn would walk her to the door. Bronn nodded and fell in step beside Rowena as they walked to the house.

At the door she stopped and turned to him. She was suddenly shy and nervous again. She looked up at him hesitantly and he gave her a crooked smile, which was all she needed. "Thank you," she said. "More than you will ever know."

"Anything for you, m'lady" he said. She smiled but then as he turned to leave, that anxious feeling returned. "When will I see you, m'lord?" she blurted.

He turned back to her and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Do you bolt your door at night?" he asked. "Yes", she replied. "Maybe not tonight." He said, and flashing her his wicked smile, he turned and walked away.

Rowena turned and ran quickly into the house to hide her smile, feeling as giddy as a child. She found Aunt Rosamond and Grace sitting together doing needlework. She'd forgotten it was that day. Once a week or so, she would sit with them to do needlework and work on her reading and writing. But mainly it was time to sit and talk to the two older women, and listen to their stories about their lives, and it was one of her favorite times of the week. She thought it might a good distraction for her today. She hugged both women before she sat down to join them.

The rest of the day seemed to last forever, and Rowena was distracted and anxious. Her aunt and uncle had asked very few questions, which surprised her. She was glad not to have to re-tell the story, and they obviously knew enough to satisfy them for now. Finally, darkness had come and she found herself alone in her room. She alternated between pacing the floor and trying to read, growing more impatient by the minute. Perhaps something more urgent had taken him away, and she would not see him after all, she thought. Exhausted, she finally laid down on the bed to rest and was soon asleep. She was startled awake by the sound of her door creaking, and then the sound of Kips tail thumping on the floor. She sat upright in the darkness, and saw a shadow kneeling in the doorway next to the dog.

"I have a story for you." His voice came from the shadows. "Do you want to hear it?"

Rowena hesitated. "Yes, I do." She was the one who had asked him to find out. She wanted to be done with it. He came and sat on the bed next to her.

"I was afraid you weren't coming." She said, as he took one of her hands and held it tightly between both of his..

"Things are dangerous in the streets, and the city is preparing for an attack." He explained. "There is much to be done, and Tyrion has urgent business for me to deal with."

She looked at him in wide-eyed fear. He tried to smile as he ran his fingers thru her hair. "You must promise me that you will not go out in the streets for any reason." She nodded quickly. "Promise," he repeated sternly. "I promise." She said, he had her sufficiently convinced.

"It's too dangerous, no one is safe right now." He continued.

'What about you?" she said.

"Oh, I'll be alright" he said, and then quickly changed the subject. "Do you want to hear my story or not?"

She nodded, and he walked back to the door to remove his boots. She sat on the bed hugging her knees as she watched him remove his tunic. By now she realized she had no control over how her body reacted to his presence. She admired his muscular arms and chest as he walked back to the bed, and she was trembling on the inside.

He slipped into the bed beside her and laid down facing her, propping himself up on his elbow. He patted the bed next to him, and she slid her legs down and snuggled closer to him. Her head was on the pillow facing him, and he picked up her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "Cold?" he asked, looking at her hand. She shook her head, feeling her cheeks turn red, knowing he could feel her shaking, and cast her eyes down. "Nervous?" he asked, already knowing the answer, and she swallowed hard and nodded. He combed his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead.

"I will never force myself on you, love." He assured her. "When this is all over, we will sort things out, and I will explain everything to you. But you must be the one to make the decision. It must be you who comes to me."

When she raised her eyes to meet his again, his face was serious, almost worried. She realized he was waiting for some sort of response, and she could only nod, because she wasn't quite sure what he meant, but she knew she would agree to almost anything he asked of her at this point.

"Your mother," he began, "was named Sueta. She traveled here from a fishing village, looking for work. No one knows anything of her past or her family, but she was only 16 when she began working for Lord Baelish."

"Does he know who I am?" Rowena asked, eyes wide with concern.

"Tyrion says there is a strong resemblance," Bronn continued. "But there are only a handful who know, and Baelish may have guessed as much, but he has never tried to confirm your identity, that we know of."

She breathed a sigh of relief, but the thought still gave her chills. She realized her mother probably hadn't known a soul when she arrived in the city. Without family or friends, she would have been very vulnerable to a man like Petyr Baelish.

"Tyrion said she was a very sweet and intelligent girl," he went on. "He visited her a great deal. But after a while, Baelish became very particular about who he would allow her to see. She was like a prisoner in his house, and Tyrion eventually gave up trying to see her."

Rowena bristled at that. Of course the Imp would have little concern for a whore, and just go on to the next one.

"The next time he saw her was in the street. She was pregnant. She told Tyrion that Baelish had found out she had a lover, and that's who'd gotten her pregnant. He threw her out into the streets with nothing but the clothes she was wearing."

Rowena wondered if she really wanted to hear this story, about a complete stranger, who was her true mother. Bronn hesitated until she told him to go on.

"There was another brothel across town. Of course Tyrion was very familiar with the place, and the owner. Her name is Alia, and she is still living in that same house today. She was much kinder to her girls, and Tyrion knew she despised Baelish. So he took your mother there, to see if Alia would take her in. And she did. He gave her money for your mother's care, until she'd had the baby and could go back to work, or leave if she chose to. But her lover had disappeared. No one knows if Baelish had anything to do with it, but Tyrion suspects he did. He was never seen again."

Rowena didn't think this story could get any sadder. She would never have been brave enough to survive such an ordeal herself.

"Your mother was not well. Baelish had treated her like a princess at first. She was a virgin, and he knew he could make a great deal of money if he paraded her around his house and sold her off to the highest bidder."

Rowena gasped. "As he would like to do with me." She said. Bronn looked her in the eye, and nodded. Once again, she didn't know if she wanted to cry or hit something in anger. She was only glad that she was hearing this story from Bronn, and had not tried going to Tyrion herself.

"Once he'd received a large purse from the sale of her virtue," Bronn continued, "she was worth very little to him, and he treated her very cruelly, and nearly worked her to death. When she found out she was pregnant, she knew she had to escape, or she would die there."

"But she didn't escape." Rowena said it for him. "No," he replied, and he put his arm around her and pulled her closer. She snuggled tightly against his chest, feeling she could not be close enough to him. "Baelish found out about her lover, and their plans to get Sueta out of the house. Then the lover disappeared, and he threw her out."

"I knew he was a cruel man," Rowena mused, "but I had no idea how cruel."

Bronn cradled the back of her head in his hand, and kissed her forehead again. "By the time you came along, she was too weak. She did not live through the birthing." Rowena's eyes filled with tears, but she urged him to tell her the rest.

"Your aunt and uncle were well-respected and liked by everyone. And it was no secret that your aunt was unable to have children. So Tyrion approached them in secrecy. They sent you to live with Averet and his wife in the beginning, because they thought it would be safest. Just in case Baelish should discover you. He would have surely claimed you as his property." Rowena shuddered and pressed herself as tightly against him as she could.

"The plan was to bring you back to the city to live after enough time had passed," he went on. "But when they went to see you, you were thriving on the farm. It was obvious how much you loved the animals, and the other children. They thought it would be unfair to take you away then, to live with them as an only child."

Rowena sighed, now realizing what her aunt and uncle had sacrificed for her, with only the best of intentions. "And they feel responsible for what happened with Averet?" she asked, looking up at Bronn.

He nodded. She realized now why they had been so upset when they came to get her, and how guilty they must feel. She wished they had come for her after Anne died, but they had only been trying to do what was best for her. They couldn't have known how things would turn out. And she had many wonderful memories of her time with her adoptive siblings.

"Will you take me to meet her? Alia?" she asked, knowing he would probably object.

"We'll see." He said, "You should probably get some sleep now."

"Will you stay with me?" she asked, grabbing his hand and holding it to her chest. "Please?"

"For a bit" he agreed, "You know I can't be seen here at night." He pulled his hand free of hers, and wrapped his fingers around her neck, stroking her cheek with his thumb. She leaned her face into his hand, and dipped her chin to kiss his palm. She closed her eyes as he ran his thumb across her lips. She wished he would kiss her, but she knew he wouldn't. She thought of what he had said earlier, and knew she needed to find out more about the agreement he had made with her uncle. But for now she was tired, and had all the new information she could handle for one day.

She turned over, drawing his hand over her waist herself, and snuggled against him, her back pressed against his chest. As she situated herself, without thinking, she moved her backside very deliberately against him as she settled her hips on bed.

"Oh, you're lucky I'm paid very well not to touch you, love," he raised his head to whisper a warning in her ear, "but if you do that again, I might be forced to forget about coins and promises." She caught her breath, and tried to slowly inch her hips forward.

"Oh no you don't", he said with an amused chuckle, tightening his arm around her waist and pulling her roughly back against him.

"Now go to sleep."


	12. Chapter 12 A Visitor

**A visitor**

It had been several days since her return from the countryside, and she had only seen Bronn once. He had returned to her room another night, and told her what he could about the happenings in the street. People were disillusioned with their new boy king, food was scarce and the whole royal family had been attacked in the streets. And there were others determined to take the throne for themselves, with large armies that could be arriving to attack the city any day.

Rowena tried to stay busy and distract herself with work, but she was feeling anxious and worried all the time now. She didn't like being away from Bronn at all sometimes, and this made her angry with herself. She had vowed never to let a man affect her this way, and now that one had, she found it maddening at times.

So one morning when Aunt Rosamond came to the barn to tell her she had a visitor, she tried her best not to seem over-eager, but it was all she could do not to race out of the barn. But the man she saw there was not her sellsword. She now realized, Bronn would've just come looking for her himself. His presence was so common by now that no one ever questioned his comings and goings.

She looked at her Aunt Rosamond in confusion, and then back at the man standing there. He was quite tall and handsome, she realized, with long wavy brown hair. He was looking at the ground, kicking at the dirt nervously with his boot. When he finally looked up, she immediately recognized his beautiful amber eyes, and ran to him.

"Jon!" she cried, as she threw her arms around his neck, and he picked her up and twirled her around. He was beaming at her now, and she couldn't take her eyes off of his face. He was so much the same, and so changed. She wanted to touch his hair and his face, but she didn't dare. Instead she just stared at him in fascination, and he did the same to her.

Rosamond cleared her throat to remind them they were not alone, and they untangled themselves and stepped apart, trying to regain some composure. Rowena was in disbelief that he stood before her. She had wondered about him for so long, not knowing if she would ever see him again.

"Rowena." He spoke her name, and seemed at a loss for words as he continued to gaze upon her. "You…are more beautiful than I could have imagined." He finally managed.

For a moment she could do nothing but smile back at him, and then she laughed aloud. "Oh Jon, I thought I'd never see you again. You look wonderful." She thought she could cry tears of joy at this moment, but she fought them back, and wondered how he had come to be here.

"What brings you to the city?" she finally managed to speak.

"You, of course!" he said, smiling a more formal, polite smile now. "And Aunt Rosamond and Uncle Bayard," he added, nodding at Rosamond. "I am long overdue for a visit, am I not?"

Rowena smiled and nodded, and realized he must have heard of her visit to his family home. She stepped closer to Rosamond, reaching for her hand, feeling a bit wary now, though she wasn't sure why.

"Shall we go inside where it's more comfortable?" Rosamond suggested. They both nodded, and Jon held his arm out for the women to lead the way. As they walked to the house, Rowena gripped her aunt's hand tightly, and she felt the woman pat the back of her hand reassuringly.

Rowena couldn't stand the awkwardness anymore, so decided she would go straight to the topic she knew they were afraid of bringing up.

"I've met Metylda's husband," she said cheerfully. "He is quite handsome and very kind. And her son, Amfrid, is a lovely child."

And that was all it took for the tension in the room to all but vanish. Jon was quite excited to hear news about his siblings. And she told him how much Godefry had grown, and how little Amfrid had helped them find bet. All during their conversation, there was no mention by any of them of Averet or Emelin, and Rowena was glad for that.

The conversation was relaxed and happy when Uncle Bayard returned from a trip to the market, and as he and Jon began talking about business related things, Rowena excused herself to see if Grace needed help in the kitchen.

"It's so nice to finally meet this young man of yours," Grace smiled at her while she chopped potatoes. Rowena picked up a knife to help her.

"Oh he's not my young man, Grace." She corrected her. "We thought we were in love as children, but he has a wife now, and children I would imagine."

Grace her a confused look and furrowed her brow, turning back to her potatoes.

"What is it?" Rowena asked, "

"Not my place, Rowena." The old woman replied, keeping her eyes on what she was doing.

Rowena gave an exasperated sigh. "Please, Grace." She asked wearily. "What else haven't I been told?"

Grace looked at her guiltily, and Rowena felt bad for pressuring her. But she didn't think she could take any more surprises right now. "Does it matter?" Grace asked her somewhat stiffly. "I think you have feelings for another now? Do you not?"

Rowena was surprised to hear this coming from Grace, and now it was her turn to look guilty.

They continued chopping vegetables in silence, until Rowena simply couldn't stand it anymore. "Just tell me." she pleaded.

"It's his wife." Grace said, without looking up. "It's been almost a year now since she passed. A riding accident, it was."

Rowena put down the knife she was holding and sat on a nearby chair, absorbing what Grace had just told her. Was this the reason for Jon's sudden appearance? Or was it because he knew what had happened on her trip home to see his family? And why had no one bothered to tell her any of this before now? She was so tired of everyone around her trying to protect her from things. She was a grown woman, not a child. She felt panic rising in her, and the usual thoughts came to her. Run. Run to the barn, to her rooms. And then she had another thought as she stood up, which was to find Bronn.

But as soon as the thought came to her, she heard her name being called from the other room. It was her Uncle Bayard. She took a deep breath and steeled herself, and walked back into the room, pretending to know nothing of what Grace had just told her.

"Rowena, there you are," Uncle Bayard exclaimed. "We were just saying it might be nice if you and Jon took a ride to the meadow outside the city after supper. You have been stuck inside the yards here for nearly a week. I'm sure you'd like to get out of the city and go for a ride?"

She looked at her uncle, who seemed overflowing with enthusiasm for this idea, and didn't quite know how to respond. "Is it safe?" she asked, remembering her promise to Bronn. "I thought it was too dangerous for women to be out in the streets right now?" She gave her uncle a pointed look, but he misunderstood it, and simply thought she was asking for permission. "I know what the sellsword has told you," he said, waving a hand in the air dismissively. "But I'm sure you'll be perfectly safe with Jon." He looked at Jon and nodded, and Jon smiled back at him and then looked at Rowena. She could tell that he at least sensed her apprehension, but she tried to return his smile.

During supper, Rowena was mostly quiet. She and Jon had caught up on all the news from his family, but no one at the table asked Jon about his. Uncle Bayard had plenty of questions for him about his farm and livestock, and market prices. It was the happiest she'd seen her uncle in some time, and she was glad to see it. Aunt Rosamond noticed her change in mood though, and regarded her with concern, but Rowena avoided looking at her, except to put on a smile when she did take part in the conversation.

Finally, supper was over, and there was nothing left but to clear the table. Rowena always helped, but her aunt shooed her away this time. "You go on outside with your Uncle and Jon," she insisted.

Rowena went outside to find her uncle and Jon. Uncle Bayard was going to give Jon a tour of the grounds and the stables, and wanted her to join them. He called to one of the stable boys to saddle Rowena's horse. When she protested that she could do it herself, he replied, "Nonsense! I won't have you working while we have a guest! We see so little of our relatives!"

Rowena sighed and followed behind them, trying her best to be as enthusiastic as her Uncle was, but he was too excited at having a male family member to show around that he would not have noticed anyway. When he had finally shown Jon every inch of the property, she thought poor Jon was quite overwhelmed as well, but he did his best to show interest in everything his uncle was telling him.

"Well, now," Uncle Bayard clapped his hands together excitedly, "I'm sure you both have listened to me long enough! Still want to go for a ride, Rowena?"

Rowena smiled and nodded, as the horses were led out. Bayard walked to the entrance of the stable yards with them, and spoke to the squire who Bronn had put on sentry duty for the day. He nodded obediently to the old man, but gave Rowena a suspicious look. She waited for her uncle to turn back for the house, and then looked back to see the squire had left his post, but he was going in the opposite direction, in a hurry. She was sure this would not turn out well.

The street was noisy and crowded, so she didn't have to worry about conversation with Jon until they had turned down the back street which led out of the city. He pulled his horse up alongside hers now so that they could speak.

"I'm afraid I have caught you quite by surprise, haven't I?" he asked. Rowena nodded and smiled, wondering why she felt so awkward with him.

"I'm sorry to hear about your wife," she said. "I didn't know. You know no one tells me anything." She laughed nervously, sneaking a look at him, and finding he looked almost as uncomfortable as she did. It made her feel a bit better.

"Thank you, Rowena", he said politely. "And I'm sorry for the way my father treated you. This time, and all the times before." He was genuinely remorseful, she could hear it in his voice. She started to see the little boy she had known, and was happy to see he had turned into just the sort of man she always knew he would.

"And I understand we are all indebted to this sellsword your uncle speaks of?" He continued. "Metylda says he is…fiercely protective of you?"

Rowena could not help but smile at Metylda's words, but she didn't like where the conversation seemed to be heading. "Yes, he has come to my rescue more than once," she said smiling. She had to force from her mind other memories of Bronn that came to her then, unbidden. "But he has been paid to do so." she added quickly, hoping Jon had not noticed her momentary distraction. "You can't believe the perils that exist in the streets of this city for a woman alone." She said dramatically and laughed. She hoped to lighten the conversation, and close the subject.

As they rounded a bend, Rowena turned her horse down a path that led off the main road. There was only enough room for one horse abreast, so Jon followed in silence. In a very short distance they reached an open meadow, surrounded on two sides by trees, and on the third, by a rushing river. Rowena slipped gracefully from her horse, and led them to a spot by the water near the trees. They left the horses to graze and sat down on a fallen tree beside the river.

"It's so good to finally see you, Rowena." Jon spoke softly, as they looked at each other. Both were trying to reconcile the adult before them with the child they had known. "A bit strange though, isn't it?" He said, and they both laughed. It seemed the awkwardness between them was gone now.

"I want to know how you've been, and what you've seen and learned all these years," Rowena said, genuinely curious. "Do you have children? Do you get along with your wife's family? And what brings you to the city?"

He laughed and took her hand casually in his. "Full of questions, just like always, I see." He said, smiling at her warmly.

"I do have children. Two boys and a girl. I think you would like them very much." He replied. "And yes, my wife's family has been very good to us over the years. She was their only daughter though, so this has been quite difficult for them."

"I'm so sorry," Rowena replied.

"As for why I'm here…" he hesitated before continuing. "I'm here for you, Rowena."

Rowena's breath caught in her throat and her stomach did a flip. He saw her the bewildered look on her face and smiled, taking both of her hands in his now. "I've always loved you, Rowena," he began, "even when I was married, I never stopped loving you. I want to take you back with me. Now we can finally be together, husband and wife."

Rowena was too shocked to speak. When she looked at him, she did feel genuine affection for him. He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. She did not move to avoid him, but she did not kiss him back. When she looked into his eyes again, she could see the disappointment and cast her eyes down.

"I understand, it's very sudden," he went on, but she wasn't hearing him. Instead she was hearing hoofbeats, approaching fast. Then Jon heard it too, and saw the look of panic on her face. Jumping to his feet quickly, he drew his sword. He moved several paces away from her, taking a defensive stance as the horse and rider reached them.

Rowena didn't need to turn around. "Stand down, boy" she heard the familiar voice say to Jon, his tone just as ominous as it had been when he'd spoken to Averet.

**A resolution is near! But Rowena will have to make a very difficult decision, which not everyone may approve of...**

**And there will likely be a rating change to this story before it's over...**


	13. Chapter 13 A Long Awaited Kiss

**A Long Awaited Kiss**

Now Rowena did jump up from where she sat. She fixed her eyes on Bronn's, but could see that the squire who had been on duty was on a horse just behind him. She should have known.

"It's alright, Jon," she said as calmly as she could. Jon hesitated for a moment before lowering his sword. He looked at Rowena and then at Bronn,

"You're the sellsword?" he asked Bronn, as realization dawned on him.

Bronn nodded in response. "Do you always greet people with your sword drawn?" he asked.

"You did come thundering up on us like wildlings," Jon replied flatly. "I think you would've done the same in my position."

Bronn acknowledged him with another nod, but this time he gave Jon a crooked smile.

"Well, I was promised," he began, looking directly at Rowena when he spoke the word _"promised"_ , before looking back to Jon, "that the young lady would not be leaving the grounds for any reason."

Jon looked at Rowena for confirmation, and she nodded. "Well then that would be my fault, I'm afraid" said Jon, still attempting to lighten the conversation. "She did mention her concerns, but her Uncle Bayard and I convinced her to go. I do apologize."

Rowena breathed a sigh of relief as Bronn dismounted and Jon put his sword away. She gave the squire and angry look, and he turned his eyes away sheepishly.

"Lovely horse," Jon commented, as he approached the animal. "How in the world did you get a horse like this? I mean…no offense."

"Oh none taken," replied a smiling Bronn. "He was a gift actually," he continued, turning his smile on Rowena. "I could certainly never afford a horse like this."

She swallowed and felt her face turning red. Oh he was being boorish, she thought. But then felt a stab of guilt, remembering how he had looked at her when he'd mentioned her promise to stay out of the streets. It was true, she was the one who'd broken her promise. So far as she knew, he had never broken any of his where she was concerned.

She took a deep breath and then put on her most serene smile. "I told you, Jon," she explained, "Bronn has come to my rescue more than once. Uncle Bayard was kind enough to give him this horse in return." Now she fixed her smile on Bronn, feeling victorious. But of course he was only amused that she was now playing his game.

Frustrated, she went back to the fallen tree and sat down. She would let them sort it out themselves.

"Well, I guess we are all in your debt for coming to Rowena's aid," Jon said, sounding as if he was becoming annoyed.

Bronn only smiled and nodded. Then tipped his head back towards the squire. "My man can lead you back to where you're staying." He said to Jon, still smiling.

"Well, if you don't mind…" Jon began, but Bronn interrupted him. "I do mind. I'll see her home." The tension had escalated quickly, but Rowena only watched them. She suddenly realized how Bronn dealt with his anger. He was simply patient with it, and used it only when it suited him.

Several nerve-racking moments of silence passed. Rowena decided right then and there that she could be patient too. She folded her arms across her chest and waited.

It was Jon who finally spoke. "May I speak to her before I leave?" he asked Bronn, with an exasperated smile.

"Of course," Bronn replied. He turned away from them, and walked his horse over to where the other two horses were grazing.

"Rowena, I don't want to leave you here." Jon whispered, sounding anxious.

"It's alright, Jon," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You should go."

He nodded, but he looked so sad it wounded her. She hugged him tightly, which took him by surprise.

"I do love you, Jon," she said, "I've always loved you, you know that. But you know I can't give you an answer now. Not today, not tomorrow. I only just found out about your wife today. You can't expect me to…."

He put a finger up to her lips. "I understand." He whispered, "Take all the time you need."

He hugged her again, and turned to walk to his horse. As he followed the squire out of the meadow, he waved to Rowena, and shot Bronn an angry look.

Rowena took a deep breath as Bronn approached her. She was determined to remain calm.

"Did he touch you?" he asked when she looked up at him blankly.

"How is that any of your concern?" She replied evenly, surprising herself.

"You know that anything that concerns you concerns me." He was angry but trying not to show it. "And did you not make a promise to me?"

"I did." She admitted, "if you're going to be angry with anyone it should be me, not Jon."

"I'll keep that in mind" he said dryly, "now answer the question."

Rowena hesitated. "He kissed me, and…"

"And WHAT?" She looked up at him, and realized he was getting angrier by the moment. She was starting to see how this game worked, but not at all sure if she should play it, at least not with this man.

"His wife is dead, he wants to take me back home with him," she continued, talking to herself as much as anyone else. "But when he kissed me, I didn't feel anything."

"Maybe it _is_ time you were kissed by a man." Bronn said calmly. Was he testing her now?

"Then kiss me." she said lifting her chin defiantly. Yes, she would play his game.

"You're angry, you don't know what you're saying." He replied, realizing she was baiting him now. "And we should be getting back."

He reached out to take her by the arm, and she put both hands on his chest and pushed him as hard as she could. Rowena knew that she was truly testing his temper now, but she couldn't stop herself. "Stop telling me what I'm thinking and what I'm feeling. You don't always know what is in my head!"

He looked away, and said nothing for a moment, but she could see the muscles in his jaw and neck tensing. And then he lunged at her so quickly she screamed. Grabbing her around the waist with one arm, he half carried, half dragged her on his hip from the clearing and into the trees. She kicked and struggled against him, but could only try to pry his fingers from her waist, to no avail.

He reached a patch of pine needles on the forest floor and released his hold on her so abruptly that she stumbled forward, and fell onto her knees. He grabbed her arm again as he dropped to his knees behind her. She tried to steady herself on her hands and get her feet back under her. But she was too slow, or he was too quick, and in an instant, he had turned her over, grabbing her by both arms, and easily pinning her to the ground. With the full weight of his body on hers, he held her wrists tightly above her head, and took a moment to look at her. He wanted to know that she was frightened, and she was. She saw fiery anger in his eyes, but that wasn't all.

And then he kissed her, roughly, and it was nothing like the kiss with Jon. It was what she had imagined kissing Bronn would be like, and more. When he realized that she offered no resistance at all, his kiss became more sensual and deep. She was unprepared for the sensations that raced thru her entire body as his lips crushed hers and his tongue explored her mouth.

He released his grip on her wrists, sliding his hands across her palms to interlock his fingers with hers. She clasped his fingers so tightly that her nails dug into the backs of his hands.

After a few moments, he pulled away, letting his lips linger on hers briefly, and then rolled onto his side next to her. He kept one hand clasped tightly in his, but released her other hand so that he could gently caress her cheek and run his fingers thru her hair. She reached up tentatively, running her fingers across his face, his whiskers, his lips.

"You'd be the death of me, wouldn't you?" He said wearily.

"No!" She replied petulantly.

"You made me lose my temper, forget my surroundings." He scolded. "We were completely vulnerable. And you did it on purpose. You can't do that to get what you want, do you understand?"

"Yes," she replied sullenly. She tried to look remorseful, though she wasn't sure she felt it.

"You should've kissed me when I asked you to." She said defiantly.

"As I recall, it was more of a demand than a request?"

"Why did you stop?" she asked.

"Why?" he looked at her in disbelief. Then he grabbed her hand and placed it directly on the hardness in his trousers. She tried to pull her hand away, but he held it there firmly. He watched her expression go from shock to fear, and then he released her from his grasp and sat up. "That's why. You pull something like that again, can't promise you that I will stop."

He stood up and reached his hand down to help Rowena to her feet. He turned her around to inspect her clothing, brushing leaves and pine needles from her dress as she pulled them from her hair.

"But you did…stop." She said, determined not to let him cut her off without an explanation this time.

"I've told you it's more complicated than you know," he said with a sigh.

"So you prefer the company of whores?" she asked him bluntly.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead and she tensed, waiting for him to explode at her again. But when he spoke, she realized she had pushed too far. "I prefer my own company to most other people." He said wearily.

Suddenly, Rowena felt as worn out as he sounded. "As do I," she said in a tired voice, and turned to walk back to her horse. She was exhausted by it all and she only wanted to be at home alone in her room. As she rode past him, he was standing next to his horse but did not turn around. Once she was out of sight, she urged her horse forward, hoping to put as much distance as she could between them, before he changed his mind.


	14. Chapter 14 Decision

**I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to add a chapter! LIFE gets in the way sometimes! Hopefully this will put me back on a more regular schedule for uploading! Thanks for sticking with me :) This story is so absolutely special to me, especially now! Please let me know what you think! I need all the positive reinforcement I can get right now! THANKS!**

**Decision Time**

Rowena observed the flurry of activity going on around her as if she were on the outside looking in, still wondering how she had ended up here, in a brothel. Perhaps she was dreaming. Her head was fuzzy from the wine she'd been given and she couldn't seem to concentrate on anything. But everywhere she looked girls were dressing or fixing their hair, giggling and whispering, sneaking glances at her. And then there were the girls that were helping her dress, who could barely contain their excitement or their questions. She smiled warmly at them, they were no different than she was, after all. As their hands worked in her hair, it gave her the same relaxing feeling as when her Grace or her Aunt braided her hair. But they talked so fast and all at once that she could barely keep up with them.

"Are you truly a virgin, miss?" one of them asked. She had lovely red hair and pale skin, and looked all of fourteen.

Rowena felt herself blushing, but realized there was nothing to be shy about here. "Yes," she replied.

"And who is the man?" immediately asked another, behind her.

Rowena glanced at the lady of the house, who gave her a very small shake of the head and a warning look.

"I don't know," Rowena said, trying her best to sound disappointed.

The girl braiding her hair clucked her tongue in a sympathetic way, and came around to face her. "Sometimes that's best, love," she said in a serious voice. "If you know it's some fat ugly bastard, you'll only cry about it for hours beforehand."

Rowena tried not to look as horrified as she felt, but then they all laughed and she realized they were teasing her. She laughed in relief and felt better, and more accepted by the group of girls surrounding her. And then she wondered what they would think of her once she was gone.

Suddenly, the lady of the house stood and clapped her hands. "Enough!" she said. "Don't be fillin' her head with your nonsense! Get out, all of ya!"

The girls scattered as she waved her hands at them. The one who'd been braiding Rowena's hair patted her hand and smiled sweetly at her. "Don't' worry," she whispered, "You'll be fine!"

"Thank you," said Rowena, almost in the form of a question, not exactly sure what to say. And then the girl was gone, along with the rest of them, leaving Rowena alone with Alia.

"Come and put this on," Alia commanded, and held out a long sheer gown. "No man could resist a girl in this dress."

But Rowena knew they were not talking about any ordinary man. What if he was still angry with her after their last encounter?

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Rowena had reached the stables and was tending to her horse by the time she heard another horse enter the yard. She had considered handing her horse off to one of the stable boys so that she could disappear into the house, but she wasn't in the mood to hide. She didn't turn around when she heard Bronn walk in behind her.

"I'm sure I could find a place for you to stay in the Keep where I could keep a closer eye on you," he threatened angrily, "since you won't stay here or do as you're told."

"No." Rowena replied boldly. "And you will never get my uncle to agree to that."

"I'm trying to help you, child," he said, and she could tell he was truly running out of patience with her.

"I'm not a child and I don't want your help." She muttered, turning back to her horse. Inside, she wanted nothing more than to run to him and feel his arms around her, but she was far too stubborn to back down.

"Well then," he said, now pacing behind her. "When and if you need my help, you can come and find me." It was a tone of voice she'd heard him use, but it had never been directed at her, and it made her cringe. She didn't move as he walked out, and then she heard his horse leaving the yard. Her hands were shaking now as she fumbled with buckles on the saddle, and she fought back tears.

When she was finally alone in her room, Rowena realized how terrified she was at the thought of not seeing him again. And then there was the memory of him kissing her, which she could not stop thinking about.

After that, she had not seen or heard from him for days. She knew the city was in danger, each day the streets grew more restless, more dangerous, as a fight for the city and for the crown became inevitable. Finally, Rowena couldn't stand it any longer. She went to her Aunt, too afraid to approach her uncle, and begged her to let her go and find Bronn.

Her Aunt Rosamond looked tired, and only shook her head and smiled.

"I told your uncle this would happen," she said. "He didn't believe me."

"You told him what would happen?" Rowena asked, puzzled by this strange response.

"That you would want to go after him if he went away," Rosamond replied, now looking absently out the window, as if her mind was far far away.

Rowena was now at a complete loss. Had they known all along? Bronn had made several comments that she hadn't quite understood, but she knew he'd made some sort of agreement with her uncle, and that it somehow involved her.

"I don't understand, Aunt Rosamond," she spoke hesitantly, not sure if her aunt was upset or angry, but she was becoming worried herself.

"It's the agreement your uncle made," she said, shaking her head again. "We must allow you to go to him."

She shrugged her shoulders, still seeming to be somewhere else, and got up and went to call Grace. The two women exchanged a few words, Grace gave Rowena a concerned look, nodded to Rosamond, and then disappeared towards the back door of the house.

Then she turned back to Rowena and smiled at her. But her eyes also were filled with concern. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?" she asked.

"I must see him before he goes to battle." Rowena replied. "He was so angry with me when he left. What if something happens? What if he doesn't come back?"

She was fighting back tears now, but she knew that she had to appear steady and brave to stand any chance of leaving the stables.

"You realize that if you go to him," Rosamond spoke slowly and deliberately, "You may not be able to come back here?"

"What do you mean?" Rowena gasped in shock. What was her aunt saying?

"If you go to him now," Rosamond continued, "it will be his decision where you stay. Do you understand?"

Realization was beginning to dawn on Rowena. He had all but told her he wanted her all along, but she had never thought past just wanting to be with him. To have him hold her in his arms, to kiss him. To be his, to keep? What would that mean? She wasn't even sure. Just thinking about it both frightened and excited her, just as he had from the beginning.

"I understand, Aunt Rosamond," she said, wiping away a single tear that had escaped from her eye. "I must see him."

Her aunt nodded as if she had already known the answer, and took Rowena's hand in hers. "Come then," she said softly, "There isn't much time."


	15. Chapter 15 Alia

**Happy Friday, Lovelies! Hope everyone has a great weekend! Short and sweet, but I may have time to add a chapter tomorrow ;) **

**Alia**

Grace had gone to fetch the squire who was on sentry duty outside the stables, and he was waiting for Rowena in the yard. He was to take her to a safe place, where she would be able to stay out of sight and be safely taken to Bronn. As soon as they were alone, she told him that if he left her sight at any time, or tried to tell Bronn ahead of time that she was coming, she would tell Bronn that he had made a pass at her. His face went completely white at the idea. She was very proud of herself for pulling it off. She had watched Bronn do it enough, plus the squire knew she was still mad at him for tattling on her when she left the stables with Jon. She felt she had him thoroughly frightened of her, and she was surprised, and a little guilty, at how good it made her feel.

Rowena was wearing a long cape with a hood, and men's clothing, to keep anyone from recognizing her, and because it was just plain dangerous for women to be outside of their homes right now. People in the streets were fighting over food and wares and anything else of value. Drunks were fighting for the sake of fighting or passed out along the road. Rowena tried her best not to be afraid, but her heart was pounding and she hoped they were not going far.

"Do you know where he is?" she asked the squire, who had a tight grip on her arm, and looked nearly as frightened as she felt. "And don't look so scared, someone will notice!"

She realized it was something Bronn would say to her, and in any other situation, this thought would have made her laugh, but not here, not now.

She noticed the squires face had gone red. Had she embarrassed him or made him angry, she wondered. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to offend you. But do you know where he is?" She repeated the question, and still, he was hesitant to answer.

Finally, he stopped and looked at her, his face guilty, his eyes refusing to meet hers.

"He's in a brothel, m'lady," he mumbled. She inhaled sharply, but tried to remain calm.

"But he's only drinkin'", he went on, now watching her face to see her reaction. "He doesn't go with women before battle."

Rowena gave him a confused look. She really had no idea what to think of that statement, but she had to think of a plan to get to him.

"Is it one of Lord Baelish's houses?" she asked, now unable to hide her own fear.

"No, m'lady", he said quickly. He knew, and he was also addressing her as a lady. Bronn had given him instructions. This did allow her a little smile. And then a thought occurred to her. "Alia?" she asked, hopefully.

The squire nodded, hoping he finally had an answer that would please her. And he did.

"Take me to her, please." Rowena commanded, feeling her strength return, she was back in control. Bronn had given her everything she needed to be able to find him, she realized. She had grown and learned so much since she had met him.

When they got to Alia's house, they waited until no one was coming or going at the front door, and then headed around to the back entrance. The squire tapped softly on the door, and Rowena was surprised to see a young boy peek through a small window in the door.

"This lady needs to see, Alia" he said, very politely, "It's urgent business."

The boy did not speak, but closed the window, and they heard his footsteps as he ran off, hopefully to find Alia. They waited in the dark and deserted alley, and Rowena quickly grew impatient. She wanted to pace, but stayed close to the building as she knew Bronn would do, so as not to draw attention to herself.

A few minutes later, the window opened, and an older woman peered out at them. She looked from the squire to Rowena, and then her eyes widened, as if she recognized her. Rowena suddenly felt very self-conscious with the way the woman gazed at her, in such a familiar manner, but it was a warm and caring gaze. As the woman's eyes filled with tears, Rowena found herself tearing up. She realized Alia was not seeing her, she was seeing her mother, Sueta.

"You are Rowena," Alia finally spoke, still looking at her in wonder, wiping tears from her face.

Rowena could only smile and nod, and then the door opened and they were ushered into a small but cozy sitting room with a fire burning. And there Rowena sat, listening to Alia tell her the story of her mother, Sueta. They both laughed and cried, and then Alia asked the reason for her visit. When Rowena told her, the older woman smiled a knowing smile. She was well past her prime, but Rowena could tell she had been very beautiful, and was still quite stunning in both her looks and the way she carried herself.

"It is no wonder he has gone to so much trouble over you." She laughed, shaking her head. "He is a hard man. He will never see the same woman twice, and he has not been with any woman for weeks now. You must be very much like your mother to have kept his attention."

She looked at Rowena now, trying to read her face, and this only made Rowena squirm in her seat and become uncomfortable. This only made Alia laugh. "So it's true," she said, giving Rowena a knowing look. Suddenly, Rowena understood what she meant, and knew her face was turning scarlet red.

Alia only laughed again, but in a kind way, and came and put her arm around Rowena's shoulder.

"Come along," she said with a smile, squeezing Rowena's arms gently, reassuringly, "We must get you ready to see this sellsword of yours."


	16. Chapter 16 Making an Entrance

**Making an entrance**

The boy led her through the room filled with more men than women. It was loud and raucous, plenty of them already drunk. She wondered immediately if she had made a mistake coming here, but then she spotted Bronn across the room, and her resolve returned.

The gown the woman had given her was so thin and daring that Rowena felt she might as well be naked. The only thing holding it together at the sides were four small gold buttons. The first button was just in line with her breasts, the next one below that near the bottom of her ribs. There were two more, close together at her hip, leaving an opening and skin exposed between each button. The rest was open to the floor, leaving a long slit on either side so that her entire leg might be seen as she walked, with the fabric swirling around her. There was a deep plunge in the front and back, exposing more skin, and the fabric was gathered at the shoulders, leaving her arms bare.

As they reached the table where he sat, she finally had a moment to glance around and take in some of what was going on around her. There were women scattered about, in various states of undress, some entwined with drunken soldiers, others wandering thru the room with jugs of wine or just looking for interested men, who were never far away. Bronn was at a table of men which seemed to be the loudest and rowdiest group in the room.

She knew he would've seen her as soon as she came into the room. But he didn't speak or make any move to greet her.

When he finally did acknowledge her, he set his cup of wine down on the table, and leaned back to regard her with narrowed eyes. For a moment she couldn't read his face at all, and wondered if he might still be angry with her.

"Well this is a lovely sight," he said, cocking his head to the side as he tried to read her face. She knew she could not hide her trepidation. If she had learned anything about this man, it was that she could hide very little from him.

"To what do we owe the honor?"

"I wanted to see you before…." She trailed off, as just those few words were difficult to manage.

"Send me off with a kiss?" He asked mockingly.

"Yes." she managed to reply with more confidence than she felt.

"We're all in need of a kiss for luck, love!" She heard a nearby voice chime in. "What's so special about him?" The other men laughed and began grumbling in agreement."

One of the men reached a dirty hand out towards her leg but it was kicked away by a boot, accompanied by a warning growl. "Touch her and you'll lose a hand, friend." Bronn gave the man an annoyed look, but his voice was more serious. The offender got up and wandered away on wobbly drunken legs, muttering to himself.

She swallowed and tried to look poised, but he knew very well she was terrified. She wondered if he could actually see her trembling. It felt as if her entire being was shaking, inside and out. She realized she was holding her breath, and exhaled in relief when he leaned forward and placed his hands lightly on her hips, drawing her closer.

"So you've come to see me off, eh?" She could see the curiosity in his eyes. "And?"

"And to ask you to please return safely….to me." She was almost afraid to look at him, still not sure how he was going to respond. She had no experience with this, and he knew he had the upper hand.

He looked almost surprised and considered her intently for a moment.

"Well then, you'll have to sit down so we can have a chat about that," he said, smiling wickedly now.

Rowena moved to turn sideways so she could sit on his lap. As she'd looked around, the only place she'd seen any woman who _was sitting_, was on a man's lap. But he held her in place in front of him and shook his head. He slipped his hand beneath her dress, sliding it down her leg to the back of her knee. When he pulled her leg forward, she realized his intention. Their eyes were locked on each other, and she knew he was testing her. A feeling of panic rose in her, and she thought she should object. But she was here, dressed the part, and she didn't want to do anything to draw attention to herself. She may as well be as brazen as any other woman here. No one would know the difference except the man in front of her, she thought. So she shifted her weight to the other foot and put her hands on his shoulders to support herself.. He kept his eyes on hers, as he pulled her right leg up and over his left thigh. Then he moved to her left leg, sliding his hand behind her knee again, lifting her left leg over his right thigh. Then his hands were on her waist, easing her down onto his lap.

She was straddling him face-to-face, her heart racing and her face flushed. The sudden closeness, and the amount of physical contact as their bodies pressed together, and the very very thin fabric of her dress, made an incredibly potent combination. The sensations flooding her mind and body threatened to overwhelm her. She could not keep herself from shaking, or breathing too fast, and felt sure he could see that too.

"A kiss for luck then?" he said quietly, but he could not completely hide his amusement at her discomfort.

He wrapped one hand more tightly around her waist, and slid the other hand slowly up her back to her neck, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her towards him. It was a deep and passionate kiss and she felt even more lightheaded as his tongue invaded her mouth, and then he let his lips linger over hers, and she felt his breath on her face. She had never been in such close intimate contact with any man, and she inhaled the scent of him,. It had become both familiar and comforting to her, but now, mixed with the smell of leather and wine, it was absolutely intoxicating.

He sat back, observing her for a moment. She watched as he touched her bare shoulder, running his hand down her arm slowly, letting his thumb just barely graze the side of her breast. He seemed completely lost in what he was doing for a moment, as if she was someone he'd never seen before.

"So you want to be mine?" he said casually, and looked up at her. Once again she felt that dreamlike state, and was unable to speak. He raised an eyebrow at her, along with the impatient look she'd become used to.

"Yes." Her reply came out as barely more than a whisper.

He moved his hands back to rest on her hips, and she had to grasp at the cloth on his shoulders to keep from falling backwards. He smiled, leaning back a bit more, and shifted his hips forward on the bench. Rowena adjusted to his movement effortlessly, without thinking, as naturally as if she were sitting a horse. She shifted her pelvis back and then forwards, finding her seat, and found that she could balance herself quite comfortably now.

For a moment she felt in control, and ever so slightly more confident. She straightened her back and shoulders, and fixed her gaze directly at him. Her legs hung relaxed on either side of his, with her toes dangling in the air above the floor. Her hands rested on his belly, just above the laces of his trousers. He gave her a look of approval, and she could not suppress a shy smile, which only made him laugh out loud, but it was lighthearted and genuine.

"I have always admired how gracefully you can sit astride a horse when you ride," he mused, with a crooked smile.

He was looking her over, his fingers playing with her hair, the fabric of her dress. How different she must look to him, she thought, here in this place, dressed as she was. He looked at her with his wicked smile when he noticed the openings in the side of her gown.

"I quite like this dress," he said. "I would have you dressed like this all the time."

"Wouldn't do for the stables, I'm afraid," she laughed nervously.

He glanced at her but didn't respond. His hands were trailing down her sides, letting just his thumb glide over the bare skin above the first button, then along the bare skin below it, across the second button. When he came to the opening above the third and fourth buttons, he slid his hands inside her dress, causing her to gasp at his touch, as he rested his hands on the soft flesh around her hip bones.

His hands were rough against her bare skin, but his touch sent waves of excitement thru her and she could feel her heart pounding again. She was trembling inside, and an ever increasing warmth was spreading through her body. She was sure he could feel it, especially where she was pressed against his lap. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, struggling to maintain any amount of composure.

When he spoke again, his voice was low and omious. "If you belong to me…I _will_ have you. Anytime. Anywhere. And any way that I choose."

She knew he was testing her, but despite her fear, his words had her shivering in anticipation, and tingling from her breasts to the warmth between her legs. His hands moved up to her ribcage, his fingers digging gently into her flesh along the way.

"You must think very hard about this." he said, looking directly into her eyes. He ran his thumbs back and forth along the very bottom curve of her breasts, making it very difficult for her to think about anything.

"I've made promises, to you, to your guardians. And I've kept my word. But if you choose to come to me willingly, I'm free of those promises." His tone was serious, and his eyes sparkled with increasing desire. "There is no turning back once you agree. I won't let you change your mind, and I won't let you go."

He watched and waited for her reaction.

She swallowed hard, but kept her eyes locked on his. She knew he was testing her limits.

"Do you belong to me?" He asked calmly, after a brief pause that seemed like an eternity to Rowena.

"Yes." She whispered with only a momentary hesitation.

"Say it." He growled menacingly, his eyes hard and fierce now, sensing how close he was to winning this conquest.

"I belong to you."

And as soon as the words left her mouth, his thumbs brushed lightly across her nipples, and she gasped at the sensation. She leaned forward and he brought his lips to hers in a hungry kiss, while his hands kneaded and teased her breasts with very adept fingers.

**THE END**

_To Be Continued...as "Ser Bronn and Rowena"_


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